Stains of Ink
by terreisa
Summary: Emma Swan is a tattoo artist who believes her life is perfect the way it is and there's no need for anything more. Killian Jones is a florist whose been dealt several blows in life but is slowly salvaging his life from the wreckage. All it takes is meeting each other to find that, sometimes, it takes another person to complete a happy ending. A modern Captain Swan AU.
1. Chapter 1

**The characters belong to Kitsis and Horowitz but I take them out to play from time to time.**

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When Emma had set the flyer down in front of Regina six months before she hadn't really thought it through. True, it was a great opportunity for the business, if only to get the name out there and expand their clientele. She hadn't realized that Regina would insist that since it was her idea to have a booth at the Portland Tattoo Expo she would have to be the one running it.

Pulling a sweatshirt up over her shoulders she cursed the fact that it was the middle of the summer and all she wanted to do was bundle up in as many layers as possible. She knew the only reason the convention hall was kept so cold was because the artists who were currently working would sweat buckets otherwise. It didn't help to remind herself that before they had gone to get lunch she had been grumbling under her breath about wanting a fan for their booth.

"You probably should have packed one of our own sweatshirts," Ruby said pointedly from behind her. "It's not good business to be wearing the merch of the competition."

"I didn't think about it," Emma grumbled as she pulled the zipper up to her chin, "and can you really call them competition if they're located in a different state?"

"Well, just remember for next time," Ruby murmured. "That and to pack more snacks and a lot more drinking water."

"Who says we'll be doing this again?" Emma questioned, watching groups of people filtering past their booth.

"Aw, man, you guys have to come back! It'll be like a tradition!"

Emma turned to look at the guy Ruby was working on. He was grinning at her over Ruby's head with only a slight wince giving away that his forearm was under the needle.

"I'm pretty sure something needs to happen more than twice for it to be considered a tradition," she chided turning back to face the crowds.

"Which is why you should just keep coming back," the guy, Eddy, according to the appointment book said. "Then it will totally be a tradition."

"Keep still, unless you want this hawk to have crooked eyes," Ruby chastised.

"Yes, ma'am."

Emma rolled her eyes and pulled her long blonde hair up into a messy bun. She didn't even know why she bothered leaving it down when she was working, it ultimately ended up tied back and out of the way. Satisfied it wasn't going to come loose she bent over the sketchpad she had open on the table in front of her. She'd had a gruelling session that morning and just wanted to work on new designs the rest of the day.

The Expo was the first major decision she had made as an official partner at Queen's Quills and Emma was cautiously happy that the weekend had been a success so far. They had booked all their available times within the first three hours and sold all their merchandise by the end of the first day. Regina had been ecstatic about that and had sent her husband, Robin, down early the next morning with every scrap of clothing left in the studio. Even with the restock they only had a few t-shirts and a couple of hats left to get them through the last few hours of the weekend.

Despite Regina being all for the Expo she had chosen to stay back at the studio in Storybrooke. Emma didn't blame her, considering half the artists and their piercer were also in Portland, but it would have been nice for the owner of the studio to make an appearance. There were a few seminars that Emma knew Regina would have loved, all focusing on the business side of tattooing. Emma had to go instead and was almost bored to tears listening about market trends and expansion possibilities. She at least remembered to record some of the more interesting talks and jot down notes to share when she got back.

Overall they'd had a great weekend. Ruby had been excited to explore nightlife that didn't involve running into anyone she had gone to high school with and August was always up for new experiences that he could integrate into his novel. Emma had just wanted things to go smoothly and they had, aside from the lack of sellable goods and edible snacks. She smiled to herself thinking about how scandalized her son Henry would be when he found out they had run out of pretzels.

"Alright, that's that. I'm pretty sure I don't need to remind you of the protocols but I'm going to do it anyways," Ruby drawled as Emma heard the sound of plastic wrap being ripped from the roll. "Leave this on for a couple of hours, then wash it, no scrubbing, with plain ol' antibacterial soap, pat dry and voila! a shiny new work of art to show all your friends. Use whatever after care product you want, I recommend any unscented lotion but who am I to judge. Now pay my friend and take a card."

Emma bit her lip to keep from laughing as Eddy sputtered behind her. Ruby Lucas may have been one of the best free hand artists she'd ever seen but her people skills needed work. Not that Emma was one to judge, Regina had to constantly remind her to engage with the clients instead of working in complete silence.

Eddy thumbed through his cash while trying to catch Ruby's eye as she cleaned up the work station. Scoffing, Emma rapped her knuckles on the table catching his attention. He had the decency to blush before handing over his money and grabbing a business card. She watched as he walked away, making sure to keep his arm angled out from his side to avoid accidentally hitting it.

"This weekend has been pretty fun," Ruby said plopping down at the table next to Emma and unclipping her hair. She had added violently red streaks to her brown hair over the weekend and used every opportunity to show it off. "Too bad there isn't one of these every weekend."

"I'm pretty sure that wouldn't be good for business, not to mention our licences wouldn't let us if we wanted to," Emma scoffed.

"I know that. Doesn't mean it wouldn't be fun. So, do we have any more appointments or are we free to roam when August gets back?"

August had taken the opportunity after lunch to explore the rest of the exhibit hall since they had only booked two tattoo appointments for their last day. Even though he was technically supposed to be representing their studio as their piercer he had continued the pattern he had back in Storybrooke. If he was around he was more than happy to do his job, but he wasn't always at the studio, choosing to experience life instead of just observing it. Emma wasn't entirely sure why Regina hadn't fired him yet but he was one of her closest friends so she didn't worry about it too much.

"Nothing more for us at least, but I've already told a bunch of people that our piercer would be tied down to the booth for the rest of the afternoon," Emma said glancing up. "There's already a few people that are circling the booth waiting for him to drop back in."

"Nice, teach Booth to cut loose on us," Ruby said leaning over to glance at Emma's sketchpad. "I see you're still fascinated with flowers. What was it this week? Daisies or carnations?"

"Peonies," Emma answered annoyed. "It's like the guy is deliberately trying to send the most difficult things to get right. Last week it was gardenias. Do you know how hard it is to draw a flower that has white petals? It took me almost the whole week to get it perfect."

"Oh, I know he's doing it on purpose," Ruby laughed, leaning back in her chair. "If you ever bothered to read the cards that come with the arrangements you'd know that."

Emma looked over at Ruby in shock. It was no secret that Ruby couldn't keep her nose out of other people's business but Emma thought she might have been the exception. She tried to hold onto her indignance in light of the fact that she hadn't realized that there had been cards attached to her flower deliveries.

When Emma had finally been hired as a full time artist at the Quills she finally had some disposable income. It had been a habit back in Boston to order bouquets or flower arrangements for her area in the studio she had been working at. Sometimes they were for inspiration but mostly she liked having something simple yet beautiful to look at.

For the first couple of weeks she had ordered from the Game of Thorns florist but soon realized the most exotic thing they had in stock were gerbera daisies. Their specialty were roses, all sort of colors and varieties, but Emma didn't have a need for that. Roses were a romantic flower, given on Valentine's Day, for dates, or anniversaries. She hadn't received flowers of any type from anyone, other than Henry on her birthday, in years.

It was a month before she realized that the store next to the Quills' studio was actually a downtown storefront for the nursery at the edge of town. Looking at it from the street it had the appearance of a quirky bookstore that had tried to justify the use of paper by lining every available surface with plants. She had only found out they weren't a bookstore when she had met the owner at the market.

He had been delivering arrangements and noticed Emma trying to choose between irises and calla lillies. Fifteen minutes later he was handing her a card and telling her to order directly from his store instead of getting ripped off by the mark-ups done by the market. She had laughed and assured him she would. It wasn't until she got home that she looked at the card and saw that she walked by the store everyday before work.

At first the arrangements had been standard, beautiful, but nothing out of the ordinary. Then, about five months ago, she started getting more exotic blooms and fascinating color and texture combinations. She had never altered her order but the bouquets and arrangements kept changing. Whoever was preparing her order somehow knew that she used them for more than just decoration and she wasn't sure how to feel about it. So she hadn't read any of the cards that had come with her flowers, ever.

"I'll pretend that you didn't just admit to snooping around my work station and move on," Emma ground out.

"Don't tell me you aren't the least bit interested in what the guy has to say?" Ruby moaned in disbelief. "I mean, come on, he's been making you these amazing things made from dead plant matter for months now."

"Dead plant matter? Here I thought I was the one not into romantic tropes."

"Graham isn't complaining when some arbitrary holiday rolls around, since I'm saving him money, but we're not focusing on me here," Ruby tapped her finger on Emma's sketchpad. "Plant Man has been wanting to get your opinion on his hard work and you've just been ignoring him this whole time."

"Does it count as ignoring if I had no idea about it?" Emma hedged. "I just thought it was the owner doing all the work. He was the one who told me about the store in the first place."

"Anton? Seriously? That guy has one hell of a green thumb but an eye for detail he does not," Ruby said thoughtfully. "Actually, I don't know anyone who works at the nursery who could possibly be Plant Man. Most of the guys out there are all about growing the stuff, not making it look aesthetically pleasing."

"Plant Man? Are we seriously going to call him that?" Emma scoffed focusing on getting the shading right on her peony sketch.

"Better than the nickname he's given himself: 'Captain Greenthumb'. I mean, can you get any more pathetic?" Ruby said throwing up her arms in indignation.

Emma laughed, inclined to agree with her. 'Plant Man' wasn't much better but definitely less terrible than just referring to him as 'that guy who arranges flowers'. Either way Emma was glad Ruby wasn't trying to push her into something romantic with Plant Man, at least she wasn't at the moment.

"God, where's August? I'm definitely starting to get cabin fever here," Ruby said restlessly, kicking at one of the legs of Emma's chair.

"You can always go without me, you're an adult."

"Where's the fun in that? Besides, if I don't pry you away from this table soon you won't leave at all. I know Robin is on the way to haul this crap back home and you'll want to start packing up way too early. There's still a few hours to go and I don't want to waste them folding up banners and cleaning."

Ruby dropped her head dramatically onto the table, rattling the various items on it and knocking over their stack of business cards.

"Nice, very mature," Emma huffed, pushing up the sleeves of the sweatshirt as she reached across the table to shuffle the cards back into place.

"Looks like you missed a few," an accented voice came lilting from behind her.

Emma turned around to see who was talking to her but the owner of the voice was already kneeling down to pick up the cards that had fallen to the floor. All she could see was a mess of thick dark hair that had been carefully styled to look like it hadn't been. Ruby, having a better vantage point, was digging her elbow into Emma's side and wagging her eyebrows like the horny wolf from old cartoons.

"Um, thanks," Emma winced, batting Ruby's arm away.

"No problem, lass," the man said straightening up. "Glad to be of assistance."

Carefully placing the dropped cards on the pile Emma had fixed he finally turned to face them fully. Emma's first thought was that there was no way someone could possibly be that good looking in real life. Her second was that Ruby's heel was practically grinding her toes to dust under the table. She jerked her foot free and subsequently knocked the table again, sending everything on it flying.

Mortified beyond belief Emma quickly rounded the table, but not before punching Ruby in the thigh as she had stood up. The guy had stood watching the chaos in shock before breaking into a surprised laugh. Emma could feel her cheeks burning in embarrassment as she gathered pens, cups, and business cards as quickly as she could. She was flinging everything back on the table when she turned to see her sketchbook floating in front of her nose.

"Is this yours?" The guy asked.

Emma didn't hear the question at first due to the fact that she had somehow been hypnotized by the eyes looking back at her. They were lined with smudged black pencil as though he was trying to distract from the faint purple shadows under them. What it really did was draw attention to a pair of the bluest eyes she had ever seen in her life. His face was so close she could see flecks of green circling the irises.

"Uh, what?" Emma stammered, her cheeks heating up again at the realization that she had been caught staring. "Yeah, that's mine."

She snatched the book out of Blue Eyes' hands and tucked it under her arm as she grabbed the last of the debris off the ground. Studiously avoiding his gaze she circled back to her spot behind the table. Ruby was watching her with interest, eyes darting back to Blue Eyes with no hint at subtlety.

"I thought this was the Queen's Quills booth?" Blue Eyes asked confused.

"It is," Emma answered equally confused.

"Then why are you here?"

"Excuse me?" Emma asked indignant.

"Well, you're wearing a Stovington Inks sweatshirt," Blue Eyes stated, as though pointing out the obvious.

"I told you! And you thought that going to expos every weekend was bad for business," Ruby said validated.

"I'm sorry my choice of wardrobe has people confused. Next time I'll wear a sandwich board with our logo on it all weekend," Emma had recovered from her earlier embarrassment and was quickly trying to forget it ever happened.

"So we are going to do this again, I knew it!" Ruby crowed.

"Don't count on me bringing you though," Emma teased avoiding looking at Blue Eyes by straightening everything on the table again.

"Well, Blue Eyes, what brings you to our neck of the woods?" Ruby's foot nudged Emma's under the table, somehow knowing Emma had already given him that nickname.

"Blue Eyes?" He asked in an accent that Emma finally pinpointed as English.

"You haven't exactly introduced yourself so what else was I supposed to call you?" Ruby said waving her hand in his direction.

"Killian will do," he quipped shifting on his feet. "I have yet to learn yours."

"I'm Ruby, second in command this weekend and this-"

"Is Emma Swan?" He finished for her.

Emma's head snapped up quickly, meeting a teasing blue gaze. She blinked rapidly before crossing her arms and sitting back to observe him cooly. Killian was tall and lean but not lanky, at least not that she could tell because he was wearing a loose fitting black sweatshirt with some band logo on the front. He had a scruffy beard that only appeared to be a day or two old but it was a lighter brown, almost ginger in color, and his skin was tan, as though he spent a lot of time outdoors. His right hand reached up to scratch behind his ear as she watched and she noted that his left remained in the pocket of his sweatshirt.

"How the hell did you know that?" She asked annoyed.

"No offence, but you don't look like a 'Regina'," he said as he gestured to the pile of business cards. "The name was on the card, love."

Emma rolled her eyes and wondered why the guy was still hanging around. He obviously wasn't interested in setting up an appointment with them and despite the earring she noticed in his right ear he didn't seem to be waiting for August to show up either.

"You know, it's not everyday you see a sight like this," Killian observed.

Immediately Emma rose to the defensive. She had received a few pointed comments and questions over the weekend about the ability of a woman, let alone two, running a successful tattoo studio. Mostly it had come from neanderthals who had had too much to drink but it still rankled every time.

"What? You don't think that women are capable of running a business, that we should be kept in the kitchen where we belong? I've got news for you, buddy, it's not 1955 anymore," Emma spat out.

Killian took a step back, raising his hand in supplication. "Apologies, Swan, I had no intention of offending you. I just meant that it's not often that a tattoo artist has so little art of their own."

Emma deflated and felt the heat start spreading across her cheeks again. The man definitely had a way of setting her off balance.

"That you can see," Emma clamped her mouth shut quickly but heard Ruby snicker at her unintended innuendo.

"Do tell, Swan, is there an intricate design across your lower back or perhaps a rose on each hip?" He asked popping the p and leaning into her space with a grin.

"Roses are overrated," she scoffed, yanking the sleeves of her sweatshirt down to cover the small buttercup tattoo on the inside of her left wrist.

Ruby laughed loudly, causing Killian to look at her, and Emma used the distraction to scan the faces around her. Sighing in relief she saw August, his curly brown hair in disarray and a smile stretching his face, making his way back to their booth with Will Scarlet in tow. Apparently Robin had sent Will to help with getting them back home. Before either of them could open their mouths Emma jumped up from her seat, dragging Ruby up with her.

"Great, you're back and with Will to keep you company," Emma said quickly still pulling Ruby behind her. She turned to Killian and sneered. "I would say it was nice to meet you but I'm not a big fan of lying."

"Hey, that's my line," August called after them as they walked away.

"Well, that was rude, even more so than you usually are," scolded Ruby as soon as the booth was out of sight.

"He deserved it, he was being an ass," Emma said petulantly.

"Or he was flirting with you and you immediately went into lock-down mode. I swear, someday I'm going to give up on you and deliver thirty cats to your house."

"Henry's always wanted a pet," Emma muttered, stung by the comment about her emotional openness.

"He wants a dog and I agree with him," Ruby said smiling as she stopped in front of a food cart. "At least with a dog there's a slight probability of you actually being nice to it right away."

Emma's mouth opened and closed several times as she tried to come up with a response. Finally she gave in and said nothing. It wasn't a secret that she was difficult to get along with but only Ruby and Mary Margaret would point out when she was taking it too far.

Shifting uncomfortably in line behind Ruby Emma wondered if she should find Killian and apologize. Then she figured that she'd probably never see the guy again so what was the point. She tried to tamp down the feeling that the incident would be something she would dwell on for days and the weekend had been going so well.

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 **Author's Note: Here we go, my first multi-chapter modern AU ever, I needed something to keep me sane during the hiatus. This story is based off a prompt on Tumblr and is an early birthday present for my sister who saw it and decided I needed to write it. I already have plenty written so far and hope to update on a regular basis. I have no idea where it will take me but I hope you readers are happy to join the ride.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow! I'm excited to see that a bunch people are already digging what I'm doing here. Hope you enjoy what comes next.**

 **The characters belong to Kitsis and Horowitz but now it's time to play.**

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Killian still wasn't entirely sure how he had found himself at a tattoo expo in downtown Portland late on a Sunday afternoon. His cousin had been nagging him most of the weekend, which was only part of the reason. The other, more likely culprit, was his friend Robin practically begging him earlier that morning for a huge favor. Something had happened at Locksley's that Robin wouldn't elaborate on but he had needed Killian's help, more specifically his truck.

Despite his weak protests that he had to work and that he was too busy he had somehow ended up making the trip anyway. His boss, Anton, and Robin did a lot of business together and combined with Killian's habit of never taking a day off unless it was scheduled had bit him square in the ass. Anton had practically thrown him out the store, all the while telling him he needed to get out more.

Bringing Will along wasn't even a question. Killian wouldn't have heard the end of it if he had gone to the expo that Will had been nattering on about for days on end. When Killian had shown up at their apartment complex hours before his shift was supposed to be over his cousin was already waiting on the curb for him. Will didn't even let him go up to their flat to change out of his work clothes, he just jumped in the cab and told Killian to 'sally forth into parts unknown'.

They had made it down to Portland in good time. Robin would join them later that afternoon but had supplied them with the wristbands needed to get into the expo. He had told them that the booth for his wife's studio probably wouldn't have a lot to pack up so they were free to roam the expo until he showed up. Killian was just relieved to find parking near the arena where the expo was being held.

"Come on, mate, we're wastin' valuable time," Will said, practically whining.

From the corner of his eye Killian could see Will's lanky frame twitching from side to side, hands smoothing over his brown hair in impatience.

"Feel free to go ahead. I hate to be the one holding you back," Killian shot back over his shoulder as he dug behind the driver's seat.

"Don't mind if I do," Will's nasally accent floated back across the parking lot, already halfway towards the entrance to the arena.

Shaking his head Killian slowed down his search for something to wear over his work shirt. He had a feeling that there had been ulterior motives to the trip. Robin and Will had been harping on him for months to get back out in the world. Even Anton had mentioned a few times that he needed to take a vacation, maybe take a trip back to England. Killian had just shrugged and deflected their concern, laughing it off as a joke.

Finally feeling a ball of material under his fingers he grinned in triumph as he pulled out a wrinkled but wearable sweatshirt. Despite July being a stone's throw away Killian was glad he wouldn't have to walk around in the dark green polo with 'Anton's Harvest' stitched over the heart. There was nothing he could do about the dusty cargo pants or scuffed work boots but he had worn worse things in public before.

Dragging the sweatshirt over his head he sighed and adjusted the glove on his left hand. He had tried to keep his hand relaxed on the drive but he could still feel the muscles getting ready to cramp up. He would probably end up taking something for the pain when he got back, most likely of the liquid variety. Patting down the tufts hair that had sprung up from the static of tugging material over his head Killian made his way towards the still bustling entrance of the arena.

After sidling through the doors with a flash of the yellow band around his wrist he was pleased to note that despite the crowds at the door it wasn't as crowded inside. It mostly had to do with the setup of the booths throughout the venue but he could also see that a majority of the people were heading up to the second floor. Snagging a map and timetable from a volunteer he saw that there was some kind of contest starting soon in one of the conference rooms. He had no interest in that so he continued walking around the main floor.

Figuring that he'd come across the Queen's Quills booth soon enough Killian decided to just stroll languidly down the aisles. He was surprised to see that many of the booths were for out of state studios and there were even a few for individual artists. Most of the booths had someone getting a tattoo and the arena was a cacophony of buzzing and raised voices. Despite the noise Killian found it freeing to blend in with the crowds, just another face in a sea of faces.

Will had been the one to convince him to move to the almost insanely small town of Storybrooke. He had a spare room and a job lined up for him if Killian ever decided to make the leap across the pond. They were only second cousins, the only tie to his mother's side of the family he knew of, but Killian recognized an escape when he saw one. He had shown up on Will's doorstep two days later with his naval rucksack and a duffel bag stuffed with the only things he needed to start his life over.

It had been hard at first, not only to adjust to living in the States but also getting used to being around people again. The job Will had set up for him was at Locksley's Outdoor Goods, a camping and outdoor sports retailer owned by Robin Locksley, another transplant from England. It was only part time and he mostly worked in the warehouse but it was still more human contact than Killian had had in months.

Robin could see that Killian was struggling and had pulled him aside one afternoon a few weeks after he had started. He didn't make a grand speech or threaten him to be more personable, which was what Killian had been expecting. Instead Robin told him about a full time position at Anton's Harvest, a nursery on the outskirts of town, that seemed a perfect fit for Killian. Robin left Killian with two business cards, one for Anton who expected his call that afternoon. The second was for a Dr. Archie Hopper, a therapist that wasn't expecting a call but still one that he felt Killian should make.

Killian had made the call to Anton and started working at the nursery the next day. It had taken him a few more days to work up the courage to call Dr. Hopper, all the while cursing Robin for putting him in that position. That had been eight months earlier and Killian had been seeing the good doctor twice a week since.

The nursery was a good fit for Killian. In the beginning he hadn't done much work with the plants, instead he worked with a guy called Smee, a nickname given to him because of the constant presence of a bright red beanie on his head. Anton had Killian building various planter boxes or working on greenhouse repairs. Soon he had moved on to working with the hardier plants, learning how to graft fruit trees, and getting inside the greenhouses from time to time. Before he knew it he was well versed in all aspects of the nursery, except for one.

Hopper had been the one to encourage Killian to work in the nursery's town store a few days a week. The store was mostly a way to get tourist dollars, since they never ventured outside of the town proper, but it was also a successful offshoot of the main nursery, creating bouquets and arrangements to order. Hopper reasoned that it would be a way of easing Killian back into social interactions without overwhelming him. He believed that working with the more delicate flowers and creating arrangements would help improve the dexterity in Killian's left hand. Killian was skeptical on both counts but brought it up to Anton anyway. His boss had been delighted and immediately scheduled him at the store on Sundays and Wednesdays.

Much to his annoyance Hopper was right. Not many people stopped by the store, most of the orders were made over the phone or through the website, and working with the flowers forced him to be aware of the movements he made with his hands. Killian was also surprised to find that he actually enjoyed the work, taking a bunch of colorful blooms and creating works of temporary art.

One Sunday Anton had placed an order request in front of Killian. It was a bi-weekly order that Killian hadn't seen before but had glanced at the finished product in the backroom from time to time waiting to be delivered. Anton didn't say anything but Killian knew he had been given the responsibility of filling the order. He was pleased that Anton felt him worthy of taking on what was clearly a long standing order.

Killian pulled out all the stops on the arrangements for E. Swan. He let himself be as creative as he could, depending on the blooms that were in season. When he found out they were being delivered to the tattoo studio next door he stepped it up, knowing that his work would be seen by the staff and customers alike. He started adding a note with each one, nothing untoward but simply seeking approval of his creations. E. Swan never answered but didn't cancel their order so Killian kept challenging himself and kept sending notes. He was confident that one day he'd receive an answer.

Killian finally spotted the Queen's Quills booth tucked into the far corner of the arena. Will was nowhere in sight but he hadn't really expected him to be. Sitting at the table were two fairly attractive ladies, one blonde and one brunette. He had seen the brunette passing in front of the store from time to time but the blonde was someone he was certain he had never seen because she was someone he wouldn't have forgotten.

The women were talking to each other and as he watched the brunette banged her head down onto the table, her long brown hair with bright red streaks flying and knocking over a stack of white cards. Killian huffed in amusement and quickened his steps to pick up the cards that had spilled onto the floor.

"Looks like you missed a few," he said as he bent down.

"Um, thanks," one of the women answered in a strangled voice, as though she was biting back pain.

"No problem, lass," Killian said standing. "Glad to be of assistance."

He carefully dropped the cards onto the pile the blonde had restacked, noting that they were the new business cards which named Regina Locksley and Emma Swan as the proprietors of Queen's Quills. Robin had mentioned months ago that Emma had become a partner in the studio not long after he and Regina had married. Killian hadn't made the connection that the E. Swan of fanciful arrangements fame was the same one who was the new boss in the studio.

As he stood politely observing the blonde, figuring she was Emma, he noticed she was stunning up close. Bright green eyes were looking over him in a way he had grown used to over the years. One that clearly indicated she was having a hard time believing that he was real. Resisting the urge to duck his head and shuffle his feet he gazed back with equal frankness. His eyes took in the mess of hair that was piled on top of her head, the spray of freckles across her nose, and the small yet distinguishing dimple in her chin. Suddenly the table in front of him jumped, scattering everything in all directions.

Killian had no idea what had happened but judging from the bright red blush staining Emma's cheeks as she rounded the table and the brunette's smug smirk he guessed he was somehow inadvertently involved. The sight of pens and paper flying through the air and Emma's look of horror came back to him and he broke into a hearty laugh. Realizing he hadn't truly laughed in what felt like ages he let his mirth roll over him before dropping to his hands and knees to help with the cleanup.

Emma was furiously throwing items back on the table and Killian followed suit. The business cards had flown the farthest and he was reaching for the last few when he noticed a sketchbook that was facedown and open slightly behind him. He flipped through a few pages curiously as Emma grabbed for more of the detritus. The pages were filled with sketches of flowers and plants but what caught his eye was on one page there was a rough outline of a beanstalk. It looked exactly like the one that the nursery used for their logo, the one hidden under his sweatshirt.

"Is this yours?" Killian asked, desperate to ask about the sketches and especially about the beanstalk one.

He hadn't realized how close he had shuffled toward Emma as he was helping her. She seemed as dazed as he felt. As they stared at each other Killian saw a myriad of emotions play across her face: curiosity, yearning, understanding, and a recognition of something in herself. Killian blinked, wondering if she was always so easy to read.

"Uh, what?" Emma said dazedly as her cheeks bloomed in color again. "Yeah, that's mine."

Killian was holding the closed sketchbook out in front of him and Emma grabbed it back, seemingly unaware he had taken a peek. Securing it under her arm and picking up the last few pens on the ground she stood and moved to resume her spot behind the table. Killian shook his head in amusement as he too got up off the floor. He vaguely noted the brunette's eyes bouncing between the two of them but Killian kept his focus on Emma.

"I thought this was the Queen's Quills booth?" He asked, fumbling for a safe topic.

"It is," Emma said sounding confused.

Killian wanted to kick himself for starting a conversation without any type of subtext.

"Then why are you here?" He groaned internally since he apparently had no filter between his thoughts and his mouth.

"Excuse me?" Emma sounded rightfully offended.

"Well, you're wearing a Stovington Inks sweatshirt," Killian said scrambling to recover.

"I told you! And you thought that going to expos every weekend was bad for business," Ruby chimed in smugly from beside Emma.

As the women bantered back and forth Killian tried to bring himself under control. It had been a long time since he had engaged in a conversation with a woman outside of work or a bar and even longer since it was someone he was actually intrigued by.

A sudden twinge in his left hand brought back the reality of why it had been so long since he cared. He flexed his fingers before shoving his hand into his sweatshirt pocket to hide the slight twitching of muscles that had begun. It would take more than a glass or two of rum to quell the pain later and he knew the nightmares always returned when he mixed alcohol with his pain medication, an unwise and unheeded move according to the warnings on the pill bottle.

"Well, Blue Eyes, what brings you to our neck of the woods?" The brunette's voice broke through his dark turn of thoughts, bringing him back to the ladies in front of him.

"Blue Eyes?" He asked amused.

"You haven't exactly introduced yourself so what else was I supposed to call you?" she said, her hand gesturing at him.

"Killian will do," he said grinning. "I have yet to learn yours."

"I'm Ruby, second in command this weekend and this-"

"Is Emma Swan?" He interrupted her, settling his gaze on Emma.

Her body stiffened as she looked up quickly at him. He lifted his eyebrow and she immediately moved to the defensive, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms as though to block him out. Before he could help it his right hand was scratching behind his ear in a nervous gesture that always gave away his hand on poker nights. Emma noticed the movement and he watched stiffly as her gaze drifted down to where his left hand was hidden in his pocket.

"How the hell did you know that?" She asked sounding annoyed.

"No offence, but you don't look like a 'Regina'," he said, deciding that he'd wait to reveal that he was her florist. Which, to him, sounded as though he was stalking her at the expo instead of helping out a friend. He waved his right hand at the pile of business cards. "The name was on the card, love."

Emma scoffed and rolled her eyes at him. He bit back a grin and realized he wanted to keep her talking.

"You know, it's not everyday you see a sight like this," Killian said glancing at the small tattoo on Emma's wrist.

Every other artist he had seen, Ruby included, had multiple tattoos across their arms, legs; really, any available surface. Emma's sweatshirt covered most of her arms, even with the sleeves pushed up, but he somehow knew that the small flower on the inside of her wrist was one of the few tattoos she had.

Killian realized quickly he had chosen his wording poorly. Emma's body locked down and a fire blazed in her eyes. She dropped her hands to the table and he could see the knuckles turning white as she pressed her fingers onto the surface.

"What? You don't think that women are capable of running a business, that we should be kept in the kitchen where we belong? I've got news for you, buddy, it's not 1955 anymore," Emma ground out, clearly offended and with a hint of disappointment.

Killian stepped back, lifting his hands to show he meant no harm. "Apologies, Swan, I had no intention of offending you. I just meant that it's not often that a tattoo artist has so little art of their own."

At his words Emma lost all her fire and her blush returned. Killian internally rejoiced that he hadn't buried his chances at getting to know the woman before him. The thought startled him but he pushed it aside to work through later.

"That you can see," Emma teased, immediately snapping her mouth shut as she registered what she said. Ruby laughed and Killian decided to use the advantage.

"Do tell, Swan, is there an intricate design across your lower back or perhaps a rose on each hip?" He asked as he leaned down into her space.

"Roses are overrated," she huffed, pulling her sleeves down and avoiding his gaze.

Ruby laughed again and Killian grinned at her to at least share the joke with someone. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Emma sitting up and turning towards someone approaching the booth. He straightened and saw Will walking up with a guy he had seen at the few barbeques he had attended at Robin's house. August Booth was the guy's name Killian remembered, dragging it from the recesses of his mind.

"Great, you're back and with Will to keep you company," Emma blurted as she dragged a still grinning Ruby behind her. She turned to Killian, "I would say it was nice to meet you but I'm not a big fan of lying."

Killian didn't have time to come up with a retort before they were already at the end of the aisle. He watched them turn the corner marveling at the way his day had turned around completely. Turning back to the booth he noticed Will and August were already seated behind the table. Killian shrugged and decided to join them, figuring Emma would probably not want to run into him randomly around the expo.

"So, Jones, what did you say to Emma that got her all tied up in knots?" August asked vaguely as he skimmed the pages of what looked like an appointment book.

"Nothing untoward if that's what you're wondering," Killian said defensively. He wasn't sure what relationship Emma and August had but from the seemingly innocuous question Killian knew it was a strong one.

"I know it wasn't anything like that," August said looking up and smiling at him. "She would have kicked your ass and then spent twenty minutes lecturing you about it. No, this was something else."

Killian sat back and pondered the information. He had only been interested in a conversation but there was something about Emma that tugged at him to puzzle her out.

"Any word from Robin?" Will asked, keeping uncharacteristically quiet about what August was implying.

Checking his phone Killian was surprised to see a couple of missed texts.

"Yeah," Killian said, pausing to read the messages. "He's on his way and we're to let the dedicated workers of Queen's Quills know that their inimitable boss won't be able to join them."

"Regina's not coming with him?" August pondered, fidgeting with the bandana around his neck. "Figures, she hates leaving the studio with only two people there. She hates it even more when one of those people is Jefferson."

"Well, he's a right ponce when it comes to responsibility, yeah?" Will chimed in. "Remember that time he skipped three days of work when he got word of some 'treasure' in New York? He was lucky the museum curator didn't press charges."

"You mean he was lucky the museum curator didn't catch a good look at his face," August said amused.

"How is he still employed?" Killian asked wonderingly.

"Regina owes him some kind of huge debt from when they were younger," August answered. "I've never heard the full story but all Jefferson has to do is mention the word family and Regina grits her teeth and lets him keep his job."

Before Killian could get any more details people started approaching the booth. Apparently all of the appointments for the rest of the day were for August alone. Killian and Will watched as August pierced ears, noses, belly buttons, and other various spots on the body. They both were highly interested in one woman who proceeded to get parallel piercings down her back in order to run a ribbon through them as though she were lacing up a corset. Killian was impressed by August's lack of surprise by some of the requests.

"When you've been doing this as long as I have and in some of the cities I've lived in, nothing really fazes me anymore," he drawled when Killian shared his thoughts.

Despite Will's hope that more… intimate piercings would be done, August remained professional and shot down the suggestion without batting an eye. Killian just rolled his eyes at Will and fought against looking through Emma's sketchbook some more. Before he could finally give into the temptation he spied Robin rounding the corner and heading down the aisle toward the booth.

"Oy, 'bout time, mate!" Will exclaimed.

"Sorry, Scarlet, I know I've been sorely missed. Have you started writing a ballad lamenting my absence?" Robin remarked jovially, blue eyes dancing in mirth, as he joined them in the booth.

"Har, bloody, har," Will muttered, thumbing at his nose and turning back to watch the people walking by.

"Run into any traffic?" Killian asked to gage how bad it would be heading back to Storybrooke.

"Nothing too bad, it seemed to be picking up the closer I got but it seemed to all be heading south," Robin answered, running a hand through his light brown hair, scanning the crowds with Will. "We should be fine going home. Where are Emma and Ruby?"

"Romeo here ran them off," August supplied nodding at Killian. He was cleaning up from his last piercing of the day.

Robin's eyebrows climbed so high on his forehead Killian wouldn't have been surprised if they disappeared completely into his hairline. Will was laughing at his side and Killian felt his skin heating up at the attention. He pushed back the sleeves of his sweatshirt in a huff and rolled his eyes at them.

"I may have made Emma a bit uncomfortable but I assure you, Romeo I am not."

"Ooo, he's breakin' out the fancy talk," Will teased. "Next we'll be hearin' about good form and bein' a proper gentleman."

"At least Killian knows how it's done, Scarlet," Robin launched back. "I would start taking notes if I were you."

August bit back a laugh, ducking his head over the box of equipment he was packing up. Killian smirked, glad Robin wasn't grilling him for more information. He had been trying to get Killian to get back in the dating pool for months, it would only be a matter of time before he brought it up for serious discussion. Killian wasn't looking forward to that conversation.

"Oh, man! That's a sick piece you got there! Did you get it this weekend?" An impressed, and loud, voice broke through Killian's thoughts.

All four of them looked up at the man standing in front of the booth. He was tall, blonde, and clearly drunk as he stood unsteadily on his feet. Killian wasn't sure whom he had addressed but a low swooping in his gut told him the guy was talking to him.

"Thank you," Robin answered tensely, not wanting to make a scene and gesturing at the lion tattoo on his forearm. "Sadly I didn't get it here."

"Nah, man. I mean, your ink is pretty tight but I'm talking about that dagger pierced heart my man is sporting," the guy said pointing an unsteady finger in Killian's direction. "Is Milah you're old lady? Did she do you wrong, bro?"

Before Killian could react a strong hand clasped his shoulder, holding him in his seat. He could feel the tension radiating in the grip but he couldn't tell if it was originating from Robin or himself. Will on the other hand had no one holding him back.

"You best be moving on, mate, we're done here."

"What do you mean done? I just asked a question, dude, no need to get all upset about it," the guy was raising his voice, looking around him for validation. "It's a tattoo expo and I was complimenting the guy. It's not my fault his chick fucked him then dropped him."

It took both Robin and August to hold Killian down as he made to lunge out of his chair at the drunk. Which left Will free to launch over the table and land a punch on the guy's jaw. The man dropped like a sack of potatoes to the ground, where Will left him. He glided back around the table, schooling his face into a mask of curious disinterest, just as two guys from security broke through the crowd that had gathered.

"What happened here?" One of the men asked.

"This drunk idiot passed out in front of our booth," Will stated calmly. "I think he might have trouble knowing when to keep the bottle closed."

"Is that so?" The second asked, watching Killian closely. "Is there a problem?"

Killian forced himself to relax, taking in a deep breath through his nose. "No, there's no problem here. Just a man who can't hold his drink."

The men didn't look entirely convinced but no one in the crowd was saying otherwise. Casting a final suspicious glance at Killian they grabbed the drunk guy under his arms and dragged him away from the booth. As soon as he judged they wouldn't be back for him Killian stood up.

"Killian," Robin said in warning.

"Give me your keys," he answered, digging his own out of his pocket.

"Oy, Killian, don't let that wanker get to ya," Will said placatingly.

"Keys," he insisted holding his left, marred hand out to Robin.

Robin sighed and after a moment dropped a set of keys into Killian's left palm and grabbing the truck keys from the right. "I drove Regina's car down here. I'm parked a row over and a few spots down from you."

"Thanks," Killian said edgily. "I'll leave it parked at your house."

Before any more words could be said Killian was striding towards the arena exit. He had known that something would ruin what had been turning out to be a good time. That's how it had always been.

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 **A.N.: I plan on posting new chapters on Thursdays (no specific time just at some point during the day) but in the meantime I'm also participating in the Captain Swan Writing Challenge on Tumblr. I'll be reblogging those on my main blog _.com_ if you're interested in reading those as well. See you next week!**


	3. Chapter 3

**The response to this keeps blowing my mind and we've only just begun. Please to enjoy!**

 **The characters belong to Kitsis and Horowitz. Let's play.**

* * *

"Mom," Henry's voice broke through Emma's sleep, bringing her back to consciousness before she was ready. "Can we go to Granny's for breakfast?"

"What, why? We have perfectly good boxes of cereal in the kitchen," she mumbled as she dragged her comforter over her head and turned on her side.

"I don't want cereal," he pouted, climbing onto the bed behind her. "Plus you forgot to buy milk and pop tarts last night so we have no choice."

Groaning Emma folded the comforter over her chest and flopped onto her back, peering up into Henry's amused face. She had returned from the tattoo expo the night before exhausted and picked up her son from his psuedo-aunt and uncle's house without stopping at the grocery store. It was her own damn fault there was no food in the apartment and she had missed their Sunday ritual because of the expo.

"Fine, but you're still going to camp this afternoon," Emma said sternly. "Just because I have the week off doesn't mean you do too."

Henry whooped in excitement and bounced off her bed, tearing through the loft to get dressed. While she mourned not being able to sleep in she was infinitely more happy to spend time with her son. Her weekend at the expo was the longest she had ever been away from him. Picking him up from Mary Margaret and David Nolan's house the night before was easily the best part of the whole weekend.

She had spent the remainder of the expo wandering around booths with Ruby. Despite Ruby's enthusiasm Emma hadn't been able to shake the feeling that she had unfairly mean to Killian. The whole time she was walking the floor she kept an eye out for his unruly dark hair and bright blue eyes but didn't even see a glimpse of him. She tried to reason with herself that her odds of meeting him again were slim to none but it did nothing the assuage her guilt.

When they had returned to the booth Robin was there helping Will and August pack up the non-essentials. They were tense and avoided looking at them for too long but brushed off her and Ruby's questions about it. Before she could get to the bottom of their weird mood a voice came over the arena's PA system announcing the end of another successful expo. After that they spent all their time and energy packing up the booth.

It took three trips for all five of them to get all their crates and equipment into the back of an unfamiliar brown truck that Robin was borrowing from a friend. Whatever didn't fit had to be jammed into her yellow 1966 Volkswagen Beetle, leaving only enough room for her and Ruby to sit in it uncomfortably and forcing August to have to ride in the truck with Robin and Will. She wasn't sure how they seemed to be leaving with more stuff than they arrived with until Robin pointed out that the truck they had used to bring everything down was one of the larger ones he used at Locksley's.

The drive back to Storybrooke was uneventful but Emma had never been happier to drive past the worn wooden sign welcoming her back into town. She dropped off Ruby at the diner her grandmother owned and immediately headed to the house where her best friend was with her husband watching her son. Stopping at the grocery store for food had been the last thing on her mind.

"Mooom," Henry whined, "get up already! If we don't hurry Leroy is going to eat all the bacon!"

"That was one time and Ruby said she was sorry," she said burrowing deeper into the blankets feigning reluctance to get up.

"I know, but Ruby's not working today and the other waitresses don't know our order like she does. Please, come on!" He was bordering on panic, pulling on her arm trying to tug her out of bed.

"Alright, kid, calm down," she said laughing and raising herself out of bed. "I'm up, I'm up."

"Good, I'll meet you downstairs!"

Before she could tell him to wait he was already running for the door. She dragged herself from her warm bed and hastily dressed, knowing full well that Henry would start walking to the diner without her. Smiling to herself she counted it as one of the reasons she had made the right decision in leaving Boston six years earlier.

Henry had been five and only months away from starting kindergarten when it occurred to her that she wanted more for her son. She was working as a part-time tattooer in a popular studio but she couldn't get the hours she needed to be able to provide a stable home for Henry. As a single mother in the city she knew she needed to be there for him if he was to have a chance at a better life than she had growing up.

She still didn't know what had drawn her to Storybrooke. It was a small town on the coast of Maine that was easily overlooked on a map. They had been driving up the seaboard in kind of a impromptu vacation before Henry started big boy school, as he had been calling it all summer. She had gotten a flat as soon as she crossed the town line and in the two days it had taken to get a new tire she had fallen in love with the town and the people. Two weeks later they were staying at the boarding house behind Granny's Diner until she found a suitable place to live.

Closing the door soundly behind her she locked the door and descended the stairs. She had gotten the loft by chance. When she had moved to town she hadn't expected to immediately get hired by the one tattoo studio in town, she knew better than anyone how hard it was to get into a studio that already had established artists. Instead she found a job at the school as a yard duty and crossing guard. It was where she first met Mary Margaret, a woman whose dark brown hair in a pixie haircut that matched her stature perfectly. She was a teacher at the elementary school, not a kindergarten one but Henry eventually ended up in her class anyway.

They had hit it off right away, despite Emma's reluctance to let people into her life. Mary Margaret had a big heart that hid a spine of steel. She had been patient with Emma and loved Henry and Emma soon found that she was like a sister she should have had, if her life had been better. The loft had originally been Mary Margaret's and she had invited Emma and Henry to live with her a few months after they met. When she had married David, tall, dark blonde hair, blue-eyed, with a chiseled chin, a year later she signed the lease over to Emma, unknowingly giving Emma the first permanent home she had ever had in her life.

Henry was waiting for her on the curb tapping away on her phone. She knew he wanted one of his own for his birthday but she figured twelve was still a little young. If only she could convince David of the same thing.

"Aunt Mary Margaret and Uncle David are going to meet us there," Henry said happily, falling into step beside her.

"You just spent the whole weekend with them," Emma said bemused. "Don't you think we should give them a break?"

"No, they need to get all the practice they can for when they finally have kids. Plus they want to know how the expo was and you can tell all of us at once," he said proudly.

"Good thinking, kid, but we should probably keep the using you for practice thing between us."

"Why? It's true, I heard them talking about it," he seemed confused as Emma bit back a laugh.

"They probably didn't mean for you to hear them. They like spending time with you because you're a great kid not because they need to hone their parenting skills," she explained, pulling him into her side.

"Oh, okay," he shrugged, unfazed by it all. "I hope Jim's in the kitchen today, he always puts extra chocolate chips in my pancakes."

The rest of the walk to the diner was filled with Henry chatting about his weekend. Emma had been too tired the night before to do more than get them to the loft in one piece and wish Henry goodnight. He had been more than happy to save his stories for when she was more receptive. She also suspected he may have stayed up late playing video games but let it slide. He was on vacation and she had the week off.

"Oh good, Ruby is here!" Henry exclaimed excitedly, breaking off his unending stories from the weekend.

He bounced up the steps wrenching the door to the diner open and barreling into Ruby's arms. The door shut quickly but not before Emma heard him asking Ruby if Leroy had eaten all the bacon. Shaking her head she followed him up the stairs and let herself in the restaurant.

"...and then Uncle David took me to the pound to help out and said that someday I might be able to get a dog of my own!" Henry told Ruby while sliding into the booth they always sat in on Sunday mornings.

"You should probably make sure your mom is okay with that first," Ruby said grinning at Emma. "Although I have it on good authority she prefers dogs to people."

"Only some people and we'll discuss it later," she said noting Henry's eyes lighting up. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd be spending the day lazing about in bed."

Ruby raised her eyebrow at her insinuation and looked pointedly at Henry. "No, some people have to work and I didn't feel like being bored all day."

"Uncle David was telling Mom the other day that he'd never seen Graham so happy," Henry piped up. "Then Mom told Uncle David the same thing about you."

Ruby and Emma both gawked at Henry. Emma resolved to sit him down later to talk about keeping things he overheard to himself before shrugging at Ruby and sitting next to him. A slow grin stretched Ruby's mouth and she ruffled Henry's hair before walking back to the kitchen with a spring in her step.

Before long Mary Margaret and David joined them and they settled into the routine that was usually reserved for Sunday mornings. Emma shared stories from the expo and Henry broke in with questions about small details or stories of his own. Mary Margaret talked about the day camp Henry was attending. She was running it with a few other teachers during the afternoons as kind of a summer school disguised as fun activities and field trips. Henry would be leaving with her to go to the school after breakfast was through.

David had the grace of looking chagrined when Henry brought up the trip to the pound again but recovered when Emma just rolled her eyes at him. He worked at the Sheriff's station as a deputy under Graham Humbert. She had dated Graham briefly a few years before but it had fizzled as quickly as it had started. Ruby had been with the Irishman for a few months and Emma was happy they were still going strong.

After their plates were cleared Ruby pulled up a chair and joined the conversation. Emma sat back and let the conversation flow over her. She hadn't had a family growing up, years lost in the foster system had seen to that, but she was proud of the family she had built in Storybrooke. Henry was happy and she was happy and their lives were about as perfect as they could be for someone like Emma. Someone that couldn't seem to catch a break in life.

"Emma?" Mary Margaret's voice drew her attention.

"Huh?"

"Your phone, it's ringing."

She patted down her pockets before realizing it was coming from Henry's jacket draped over the back of their booth. Nudging him with her elbow he passed her his whole jacket and turned back to his conversation with Ruby. Rolling her eyes she extracted her phone and answered it without glancing at the screen.

"Hello?"

"About time, I need you to stop by the Quills today."

"Regina?"

"Who else would be calling you about the studio?" Regina's voice drifted pointedly across the line.

"I thought we agreed the Quills would be closed today," Emma said confused.

"It is. I just stopped by to pick up some paperwork and grab the mail. There's something you need to see."

Emma could hear rustling in the background but it didn't sound like papers.

"Okay, we're almost done with breakfast. I'll stop by after I walk Henry and Mary Margaret to the school," she promised.

Hanging up she saw that everyone was watching her. She smiled, hoping to dispel her own worry about what Regina had to show her. It couldn't be a coincidence that after her first major event as a business partner there was something going on at the studio. The others at the table mirrored her concern but masked it for Henry's sake.

As they left the diner Ruby pulled her aside asking if everything was alright. Not being able to answer her Emma just shrugged her shoulders and promised to call her later. David made her promise to do the same for him as he departed for the station. Her own worry grew as the others made theirs known. Only Mary Margaret assured her that everything would be fine as she guided Henry through the gates in front of the school. It didn't stop her from requesting a phone call too.

With heavy feet Emma turned back towards the center of town. Scenario after scenario played out in her head. It had been a long time since she had actively worried about the other shoe dropping, the one that would shatter the good life she had built. Regina's phone call had brought the worries that haunted her on sleepless nights out in the light. Some involved her being demoted, others getting stuck working the late weeknight shifts, and the worst was being fired altogether. By the time she reached the doors of Queen's Quills she had worked herself up into a minor state of panic.

The tinkle of the windchime attached to the door soothed her nerves momentarily. It had started as a joke between Ruby and Emma. They had installed increasingly annoying door chimes, each trying to outdo the other. They settled on the small, delicate windchime after Jefferson used a hammer to smash the loud buzzer Emma had bought in retaliation to Ruby's rigged boxing bell.

Her nervousness ratcheted back up as she glanced at the empty desk where they booked appointments and greeted walk-ins. A wall separated it from the rest of the shop and Emma steeled herself as she walked back to the rest of the studio. Past the wall the studio was open and airy due to the skylights in the roof that allowed sunlight to filter in. There were low partitions that separated the six work stations that lined the walls, three on each side. A more private room for the more intimate tattoos and piercings was situated in the back corner. In the other far corner was the restroom and miniscule breakroom.

Emma let out the breath she was holding when she noticed no structural damage had been done to the shop. Regina was nowhere in sight but Emma immediately noticed the reason she had been called in. In the first work station on the left wall was an enormous bouquet of flowers. They had been placed carefully on the large desk she had restored herself amid her test drawings for an appointment she had when she returned the following week. The only thought that crossed her mind was that it wasn't a delivery week.

"Oh, good you're here," Regina's voice floated across the studio towards her.

The raven-haired studio owner was walking toward her purposefully. She was wearing an outfit more suited for public office than owning a tattoo parlor. Her long sleeved silk burgundy shirt was tucked into a dark grey pencil skirt and she was wearing sky-high heels. Emma in comparison was wearing jeans, a tank top, and a pair of boots. They were like night and day, especially when it came to their personal tattoos.

Regina had an apple tree that snaked up her entire right arm. The roots started on the inner wrist and the trunk twisted around her forearm, spreading into a full canopy laden with fruit across the span of her upper arm. On her left she sported a spiral column of fire that curled convincingly down her forearm ending in a myriad of sparks across the back of her hand. She had many smaller pieces but the ones on her arms were what garnered the most attention.

Emma had gotten her job at Queen's Quills four years before through Ruby whom she had met through Mary Margaret. One of the artists had moved and Regina took Emma on as a temporary replacement with only a raised eyebrow at her minimal tattoos contrasted with a portfolio full of past work. It wasn't long before random appointments turned into a part-time position which became a full-time one. She was a popular choice with customers and had a leadership quality that tied the other artists in the studio together. Regina had offered her a partnership only days after she announced her engagement to Robin. She wanted to focus more on the business aspect and her new family and Emma was the perfect person to run the day to day happenings of the studio.

"I see you've noticed why you needed to come down," Regina said standing next to her coolly observing the giant bouquet.

"Are you sure it's for me? I mean, I pushed my order back because I knew I wouldn't be here this week," Emma said weakly.

"Oh, it's for you. It came with a card."

Regina held out a light green card between her fingers. She recognized the beanstalk logo of the Anton's Harvest Nursery on the back. Hesitantly grabbing the card she turned her attention back to the bouquet.

It was an explosion of colors: pinks, yellows, oranges, pinkish-orange, yellowish-green, all warm and all catching her eye. She recognized the tall gladiolus, full and fragrant stock, bunches of bright and delicate astromelias, multicolored mums, and in the middle of it all were two roses one light pink and the other yellow. Sudden understanding flooded through Emma and she flipped over the card to read the inscription.

 _Congratulations on a stellar expo, Swan. Hope you don't find this too overrated. -Blue Eyes_

"Are you planning on telling me who Blue Eyes is and why this monstrosity is in my shop?" Regina asked scornfully.

"Er, well it's from the guy who's been filling my order with Anton's," Emma answered in shock, still trying to process the information. "He was at the expo but I didn't know who he was. Ruby called him Blue Eyes before he introduced himself."

Shame and guilt flooded through Emma. She had gone the whole morning without dwelling on her harsh attitude towards him the day before. Now she knew who he was and there was every possibility she would run into him again.

"And?" Regina asked impatiently.

"And what?" Emma countered.

"What's his name? If he works at Anton's then we know him or at least seen him around town."

"Oh, um," Emma closed her eyes her mind unhelpfully drawing a blank. Instead of a name her mind conjured images of intense blue eyes and a grin that promised trouble. "I can't believe I don't remember. It was a name you don't hear a lot, probably ever. He was English?"

Regina's eyes widened fractionally. Emma had worked with her long enough to know she was shocked.

"Killian?" Regina asked cautiously.

"Yeah, that's it! Wait, how do you know him?"

"He's Will's cousin. He's been to the house a few times with Will and he worked at Locksley's when he first moved into town. Robin has become really good friends with him," Regina said thoughtfully. "I never thought he would voluntarily attend a tattoo expo."

"Wait, does he own a brown truck? Older, it's a Ford?"

"Yes, he bought it from one the boys down at Locksley's. How did you know that piece of information?"

"I didn't but Robin said he was borrowing the truck we used yesterday from a friend," Emma mused.

She wondered why Killian would drive all the way down to Portland, most likely to help them get everything back, and then take off before the actual work needed to be done. Despite a lingering feeling of guilt Emma figured she wasn't the reason the guy had taken off. The huge bouquet sitting on her desk and good humored card in her hand attested to that.

"Why do you look like someone kicked a puppy?"

"I don't," Emma said defensively. "It's, just, I was kind of a jerk to him at the expo and he still did that."

Emma waved her hand at the flowers. It occurred to her that she should probably seek Killian out and apologize and thank him for the flowers, all the flowers. She was not looking forward to that conversation.

"Well, he'll probably be at our house on the Fourth so you can apologize then," Regina stated blandly, clearly changing topics. "Thanks to the expo we've seen a jump in traffic on the website and in case you're deaf the phone has also been ringing non-stop. When you get back, officially, we'll discuss how we want to move forward from here.

"Don't forget we have a meeting with Gold next Wednesday to try and convince that imp not to raise our rent just because we're finally making a decent profit. August has decided to take his vacation next week as well, despite the fact that there are already appointments booked so we'll need to bring in Glass to cover him."

Regina was already walking to the front door as she shared the important information. She had an office hidden in the very back of the studio but clearly she had other plans for her day. It wasn't often that they closed shop and Emma knew Regina was going to take advantage of it.

"Whatever you do, don't leave that sunshine shrub behind," Regina tossed over her shoulder as a goodbye.

Emma scoffed as the click of Regina's heels was cut off by the door swinging shut and turned back to her station. She didn't know how to feel about the flowers or the identity of who sent them. Eying the large white vase the flowers were arranged in she focused instead on the logistics of getting the thing back to the loft without any major mishaps. That was a something she was willing to focus on; not the blue eyed Englishman who had a knack of making her feel off kilter, even when he wasn't around.

Definitely not him.


	4. Chapter 4

**This chapter will be dealing with some heavy themes: using alcohol as an escape, mentions of death, and an angry Killian. Just thought I'd warn you. Also I am not a therapist, nor do I know one, so I'm completely going off of media portrayals of therapy sessions. I'm sorry if I got something completely wrong but it's a fictional story and I'm doing my best.**

 **The characters still belong to Kitsis and Horowitz. Let's play.**

* * *

There was a ringing in his head and a pounding at his temples that dragged Killian back to consciousness. He was sprawled out on his bed on top of the covers. As he slowly turned over he became aware of the fact that he was still wearing his clothes from the day before and he had only succeeded in removing one of his boots. Cracking open his eyes he realized the ringing was coming from the alarm on his phone but the pounding was purely from his hangover.

Closing his eyes against the sharp pinpricks of light filtering through his half open blinds he reached out blindly for his phone. He at least had the wherewithal to put his phone in its standard spot on his nightstand. Turning of the alarm had obviously left his mind though. Despite the sound drilling into his ear he was eternally grateful his diving deep into a bottle had coincided with the start of his weekend. When the phone fell blissfully silent Killian allowed himself to try and remember how he ended up in his disheveled and painful state.

He had left Portland in a barely controlled rage. The only thing keeping him from driving like a bat out of hell back to his hopefully fully stocked flat was that he was driving someone else's car. It wasn't only the drunk prick that had had Killian on edge, it was the fact that after a year and a half had passed he was still violently affected by the mere mention of her name. Robin, Will, and Dr. Hopper were the only ones that knew the whole story, but only Hopper could get Killian to talk about what happened without him spiralling out of control.

Despite his urge to stop at the first bar he passed as he entered Storybrooke he kept his word and returned the car to the Locksley residence. There were lights on in the house but Killian was in no state to talk to Robin's wife and explain why he had her car. He left the keys in the mailbox and text Robin to let them know where they were.

The fury he had felt had drained significantly during the drive but Killian still felt restless. It was still early in the evening and returning to the empty flat he shared with Will just to get wasted was a kind of pathetic even he recognized. Walking down the road back into town he realized there was one thing he could do that would take his mind off the pain, if only for a moment.

When Killian stepped into the store Anton was surprised but made no mention of it, just telling him to be sure to lock up behind him when he left. Anton didn't know the whole story but he knew enough to know that sometimes Killian needed to work as a distraction. Killian was already digging through their vases and choosing a color scheme when Anton said goodbye.

Killian couldn't say why it was important that he wanted to create an arrangement for Emma. Anton had given him the request for her standing order to be pushed back by a week, presumably because she would be taking time off after the expo. He didn't care if she would never see it or if it went straight to the trash, given how she reacted to his weak attempts at flirting, he just needed to do keep himself busy.

Two hours, countless cut stems and rejected blossoms, and dozens of personalized notes later Killian had sat back absently massaging his aching left hand. The arrangement was one of his best and he had taken a picture with his phone in case Emma did decide to toss it. He didn't think she would but he wasn't quite sure. After cleaning up the work table he left a note for the person who opened the next day to deliver the bouquet to Queen's Quills and what amount to charge to his account.

As he left the shop he kept his left hand in his pocket, not wanting to put his glove back on. The soft black leather wasn't uncomfortable to wear but having to adjust it so it fit right was a nuisance. There was a trick to getting the stuffed ring and pinky fingers to sit so they looked somewhat real but the drive to and from Portland combined with his flower arranging had his hand throbbing in time with his heartbeat. Wrestling the glove back on when he was minutes from home was an annoyance he was glad to avoid.

The walk wasn't far from the shop to his flat, the day was cooling off nicely, and the last of the light was leaving the sky as Killian started for home. There was one thing to be said about his move from England to the eastern shore of the States and it was that he actually got to enjoy the changing of the seasons. Summer was his favorite, the longer days and balmy weather were practically a siren song for barbeques and lazy days outdoors. He had even come to appreciate camping, the proper kind with a tent and not a single camper in sight.

It was with distracting thoughts of getting Will and Robin to take a weekend off for a camping trip that Killian stopped at the liquor store a block from his flat. His mood was buoyant but his hand had settled into a steady throbbing that not even a glass or two of rum plus a pain pill could take the edge off. He also wasn't sure how much Will had left in the bottle after a particularly busy day at Locksley's.

When he brought his items, a bag of chips and a six pack of beer along with the rum, up to the counter he didn't think twice about holding his wallet in his left hand while grabbing a twenty with his right. He heard the cashier's sharp intake of breath and when Killian glanced up he saw the look of pity and curiosity the man was directing towards him. In a deliberate move he snapped his wallet shut and shoved his mangled left hand into his pocket. The cashier had the decency to look embarrassed and took Killian's money without comment.

Killian's good mood had vanished. He stormed out of the shop not even waiting until he turned the corner onto his street to twist open the cap of the rum and bring the bottle to his lips. The comments of the drunk from earlier echoed in his thoughts, now in his mind spilling from the lips of the morbidly curious cashier. By the time he opened the door of his empty flat a quarter of the rum bottle was gone.

The last thing Killian could remember as he lay prone on his bed, arm over his eyes to block out the light, was stumbling into his room when he heard the rasp of Will's key in the lock. He hadn't wanted to talk to anyone at the time but judging from the banging of cupboard doors and pans coming from the kitchen he wouldn't be able to avoid it much longer. With a weary and pain laced sigh Killian forced himself off his bed and straight across the hall into the bathroom for a scalding, sobering shower.

Dressed in a pair of gym shorts and a white undershirt Killian made his way out to the kitchen, where the smell of cooking food was wafting from. His desire for water, coffee, and a plate full of greasy bacon outweighed his reluctance to talk to Will. He had dry swallowed some aspirin after his shower and the pounding in his head was dulling slightly but the sight of a nearly empty rum bottle on the counter brought it roaring back to life.

"Do I need to make more coffee or is it just the two of us?" Will asked by way of greeting as Killian dropped into a seat at the table tucked into the corner of the kitchen.

Their flat was decent sized and even though their rooms were on opposite ends it was still small enough that the other knew when they were or weren't entertaining a guest. Killian dropped his head into his hands with a groan as Will let out an amused chuckle. Seconds later Killian heard the sound of two glasses being set on the table. Looking between his fingers he saw a glass of water and a mug of coffee in front of him.

"Cheers," Killian said grabbing the water and draining the glass in one go.

"Thought about filling the glass with vodka just to see your reaction but figured you've had enough surprises for a bit," Will teased from the stove. "Betcha the bottom of that rum bottle held a mighty good one."

"It did, I now know the location of an unknown treasure smuggled off of the Queen Anne's Revenge. Grab your shovel, Scarlet, we're about to strike it rich," Killian mocked in a flat voice.

Will just shook his head and turned back to the food cooking on the stove. Silence settled over the kitchen as Killian sipped his coffee and felt the jagged edges of his hangover retreating. He knew he'd be dealing with a low grade headache and unsettled stomach for the rest of the day but he had pushed past the worst of it.

"You haven't been this hungover in a while," Will said casually as he slid a plate of bacon, eggs, and toast in front of Killian. "At least not without a reason."

Killian knew what Will was referring to but chose to ignore it as he shoveled the greasy food into his mouth. He knew he imbibed a little too much from day to day but he only drank to get drunk twice a year. Two dates on the calendar that had irrevocably changed his life, although they had happened nearly a decade apart. The only thing that was different about the previous night was that he was ashamed that he had allowed himself to lose control. That hadn't happened since his early days in Storybrooke, when the nightmares had been too much and he hadn't yet begun his sessions with Dr. Hopper.

"You're meetin' with Hopper today, yeah?" Will asked, voicing Killian's line of thought.

"Appointment's at two," he murmured around a mouthful of toast.

"Right, well I parked your truck in the usual spot. I'm off to work," Will said standing up and taking his plate to the sink as he munched on the last of his bacon.

Just like that they were past what had happened. Will didn't do heavy conversations but Killian knew that he was a caring man at heart. Killian had also had a couple dealings with an extremely drunk Will on the random occasions that his ex called to catch up. They were no strangers to drowning their heartbreak with liquor.

Killian remained at the table listening as Will grabbed his keys from the small table by the front door and left. Once the door clicked shut Killian closed his eyes and let his head fall back. The food and coffee had helped but what he really wanted was to crawl back in bed and sleep the rest of the day away. Figuring he could get a few hours rest before his appointment he picked himself up from the table, dumped his dishes into the sink, and after refilling his water glass headed back to his room where he made sure to make it under the covers before drifting off.

When his alarm went off for the second time Killian was in a much better state to deal with it. Even though he had wanted to sleep all day he hadn't expected that it would actually happen. His only saving grace was that he had an alarm set for a half an hour before his therapy sessions in case he was caught up in something. He never had to worry about actually forgetting an appointment, he had skipped two weeks of appointments in a row once and had slipped back into his old habits quickly without them.

Quickly changing into a pair of jeans and pulling on a semi-clean flannel over his shirt he walked down the short hallway to the kitchen for a quick snack before he left. Grabbing a banana and a protein bar he padded through the living room and stood in front of the sliding glass door leading to their balcony. They were on the second floor and it afforded them an unobstructed view of the harbor that was only several meters away.

As he munched on the bar he wondered how much of his activities he would be comfortable sharing with Hopper. He knew eventually the whole story would be told but Killian was still reluctant to share everything that was on his mind. Luckily the good doctor put no pressure on him to bear his soul, he was content to listen to whatever Killian wanted to talk about, even if it was just about the grafting work he was doing on the fruit trees at the nursery.

He opted for walking to the office, figuring the fresh air would clear out the last vestiges of his binge. The sun was warm on his face as he headed towards the main drag of the tiny town. There weren't many tourists so early in the season so he easily noticed the few fancier cars sporting out of state license plates driving slowly down the streets. They seemed out of place among the cars that belonged to the townies, many of which were new thirty years earlier or in one yellow Beetle's case almost fifty. His own truck blended in perfectly but he had also bought it from a long time resident when he first got to town.

Hopper's office was across the street from Granny's Diner where Killian usually grabbed lunch before his Monday appointments. As he glanced across the street he regretted that he hadn't thought to set his alarm earlier so he could have had time to grab a burger. A chalky protein bar and almost too ripe banana had nothing on the greasy heaven that was Granny Lucas' specialty. With a silent vow to stop by after, he entered the building that housed a tailor on the first floor and his destination on the second.

Unlike his mandated therapist's stark, almost an interrogation room of an office back in England, the one he had attended after the accident and two arrests for drunk and disorderly, Dr. Hopper's office was almost homey in feel. The leather sofas were worn in but still comfortable and all of the wood furniture, from the bookcase and desk to the small coffee table, are easily identifiable as hand crafted. Even the photographs on the wall seemed less like mass market prints that were bought at a store and more like photos from Hopper's personal collection.

The door was wide open as Killian approached the office. In all the time that Killian had been seeing Hopper he had never run into another patient. He figured it was all due to perfect scheduling on Hopper's part.

After exchanging pleasantries and inquiring after their general health Killian regaled Hopper with the tale of a customer who had wanted to order a bushel of green beans but had really only wanted a dozen seed packets. Hopper listened, smiling, with his wire rimmed glasses sitting atop his head, tangled in his curly red hair, and a pad of paper balanced on his knee, making notes at random points in the story.

"How was the rest of your weekend?" Hopper asked once Killian finished and was sipping quietly on a glass of water.

"It was… interesting," Killian said haltingly before deciding to bite the bullet and tell him everything.

For nearly twenty minutes Killian talked nonstop about what had transpired the day before. He didn't sugarcoat or embellish, just relayed what happened in an almost bored voice. The amount of notes Hopper took increased but other than that he made no move to interrupt him. Killian was grateful he could get it out without distractions, which was one of the reasons he had been seeing Hopper for so long. His open demeanor and patient listening allowed for heavy but healing sessions.

"It's been a year and half since the accident right?" Hopper said glancing over Killian's file.

"Almost, yeah," Killian sighed wearily. His left hand twitched involuntarily on his thigh and he fought the urge to cross his arms to hide it.

"This man that angered you at the expo, was it because he was drunk and pushy?" Hopper asked with interest.

"No, it was because he talked about Milah as though she was some... whore that had left me for someone else," Killian snarled, anger rising up fast.

"Could it have also been because he brought her up in a situation where you hadn't been prepared to talk about her?" Hopper prodded.

"He was being disrespectful and a fucking prick. I don't think there's a way to prepare for that."

"That's not what I'm saying," Hopper said calmly. "You've been coming to see me for several months now but even with our meeting twice a week we've only discussed Milah and her death a handful of times. Your reluctance to talk about her keeps the aftermath of the crash running in the back of your mind and is a detriment to your recovery. We don't have time to discuss this now but I'd like to come back to it on Thursday.

"What I would like to touch on before time is up is why you felt the urge to make an arrangement for Emma Swan even though you knew she had postponed her usual order."

Killian sat up, galvanized by the mention of Emma's name. "I just wanted to make sure she didn't think I was just another jerk passing by the table."

"Yet, you didn't reveal who you were at the expo. Instead you waited to do so on a card that she may or may not read," Hopper stated curiously.

"I didn't get the chance to at the expo, she practically sprinted away from me when August and Will showed up and then I left before she came back. I figured using the card would lessen any embarrassment she might feel about me being her florist," Killian supplied, scratching behind his ear.

"You're planning on continuing to work on her orders?"

"Of course, unless she requests otherwise," Killian balked at the thought that she might do just that.

"You should ask her that yourself," Hopper suggested as he closed Killian's file with the pad of paper inside. "Expanding your social circle beyond Will, Robin, and the people you work with will make it easier to move forward."

Killian opened his mouth to shoot down the idea that he should start dating, despite the draw Emma had on him. Hopper stopped him with a look.

"I'm not telling you to ask her on a date or even out for a friendly cup of coffee," he said as he stood and Killian did the same. "You've already been in contact with her for months, it wouldn't hurt to have an actual conversation with her. One where you're both on even ground on who the other one is."

Killian left the office in a haze of emotions: residual anger from Hopper's prodding, slight unease about his appointment on Thursday, the black melancholy that accompanied his thoughts of Milah, and something he couldn't quite name as he contemplated what Hopper had said about Emma.

It wasn't until he was seated at the corner table at Granny's, back to the window, that he made his decision. He would take his doctor's advice. The only question was whether or not Emma would give him the chance to even start a conversation. He was willing to find out.

* * *

 **A.N.: A few points I'd like to make now that we're really getting into the meat of the story:**

 **-This story will be a slow burner, we have almost three months of hiatus to get through so don't expect Emma and Killian to fall into each other's arms right away.**

 **-I will always post new chapters by 8pm PST on Thursdays. I may post earlier in the day but never later than that. Last week the notification emails didn't go out until 4am (at least the one I got did) but the chapter was up way before that.**

 **-I've created a page on my Tumblr for this story where I'll be posting things that will (hopefully) enhance the reading experience. For example there will be a rough sketch of Killian and Will's apartment on there, pictures of the flowers Killian uses in the bouquets, and maybe in the future chapter sneak peeks or little fics of other characters in this AU. You can find it at .com under the 'Stains of Ink' header.**

 **Okay, I think that's it for now...**


	5. Chapter 5

**The characters still belong to Kitsis and Horowitz. Let's play.**

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Emma was valiantly trying to keep her nerves in check by doodling. The meeting with their landlord, Mr. Gold, was an hour away and despite Regina's best efforts he was going to be at the shop. Gold owned half the properties in town, both business and residential, along with a pawn shop that seemed to be sustained only by the tourists that flocked to the town when summer approached. He never discussed business in his office, Emma wasn't convinced he had one, deciding instead that a personal visit to his renters was a much more efficient way of extorting them.

Both Regina and Emma had spent the few days before holed up in Regina's office trying to figure out a way to keep their rent at its current rate. They even went as far as considering blackmail but Emma shot that idea down right away. She didn't want to go back to jail, especially for something so trivial. In the end they decided to hope for the best and work on their negotiation techniques to keep Gold from hiking up their payments too much.

It wasn't the money dealings that had Emma doodling absently on her desk but the man himself. There was something about the older man that set Emma's teeth on edge. He strolled around town with his cane deliberately keeping people on edge, wondering if he would stop and take notice of them, belittling them in the process, though that wasn't quite it. It was the rhythm of his stride and the cadence of his speech that prodded at something deep in her. Something that rankled and immediately put her on the defensive but she couldn't put her finger on why.

"You know Regina's going to flip when she sees you destroying property again," Ruby's voice came floating from Emma's right.

Emma looked over at Ruby's station and saw her hanging over the short wall, craning her neck to get a better look at the random designs decorating the desktop.

"I don't care, it's my fucking desk so I can do whatever the hell I want with it," Emma grumbled petulantly.

"Whoa, this Gold thing must be really bugging you. I mean, you only use big girl words when you're upset or angry," Ruby said, pretending to be shocked.

"Fuck you," Emma said without heat. She took some sketches and arranged them so they covered her doodles and looked back at Ruby. "Yeah, okay, this Gold thing is bothering me. I've never had to worry about other people when it came to dealing with people like Gold. I mean, yeah, I have Henry but half a dozen other people's livelihood weren't dependent on my negotiation skills."

"First of all, Gold isn't going to just raise the rent a million percent because he feels like it. If anything he'll say he wants to raise it by a thousand dollars but will be happy to settle for five hundred. He's not stupid, he knows that we're making money but by forcing us to pay a higher rent we might move to a different location and take our profits with us.

"Second, we're not worried about our 'livelihood' so you shouldn't do it for us. We trust you and Regina to make fair decisions and bring us cookies when we behave. Did you or did you not notice that we've been mostly civil all morning?" Ruby smirked.

"Aside from the air horn you taped under Jefferson's chair and the twenty minute tantrum you threw when he took your little wolf carving, yeah perfectly civil," Emma said sardonically, sitting back and crossing her arms.

"Hey, there were no clients here and I haven't retaliated yet so I call that going beyond expectations."

Emma rolled her eyes. She was actually grateful for the distractions Ruby and Jefferson had provided that morning. Something she would never admit to because then she'd never get them to stop.

"So, it's been a few days," Ruby stated trying to act casual.

"Since what?" Emma knew where the conversation was headed. The evidence was sitting on the corner of the desk they had just been discussing.

"Oh, come one Emma!" Ruby groaned in annoyance. "First you get that amazing bouquet last week, that's still sitting on your kitchen table by the way, and then that thing shows up. Not only is it gorgeous but I saw your bill, he didn't even charge you for the bouquet and I'm betting he figured in some heavy discounts for that thing of beauty."

Ruby was waving her hand at an elegant and sloping orchid. It was easily a foot and a half tall and would be taller but it was so laden with flowers that it was curving down towards her desktop. The white blooms were seemingly blushing a soft pink in the center and their scent had subtly permeated her station with their warm, tropical scent.

What Ruby didn't know was that they had also come with a small bouquet of buttercups that had obviously been picked from a random field and not cultivated in a greenhouse. The card accompanying the flowers had been blank and Emma wasn't sure what that meant. She had taken the buttercups to her car before anyone else could see them and make assumptions, all while trying not to make them herself.

"Orchids aren't really that expensive, florists just jack up the price because they're exotic," Emma said dismissively. "Anton's always given me a great deal anyways."

"Keep telling yourself that," Ruby scoffed toying with one of the broad green leaves at the base of the orchid. "I think Blue Eyes might have a little crush."

"And I think he's just glad I didn't cancel my order altogether."

"You wouldn't do that because then Anton would be over here wondering why and you'd never be able to fess up that you were trying to teach Blue Eyes some kind of lesson," Ruby countered, "but we won't have to worry about that because I know you haven't even tried to talk to the guy."

"He has a name you know," Emma muttered.

"I have yet to hear you use it either, so Blue Eyes it shall remain."

The truth was Emma had thought about talking to Killian, a lot. She had come to the conclusion that even though they had never met before the expo the odds of them meeting again had gone through the roof. Even Mary Margaret and David knew who he was, he happened to be the one who helped them pick out the flowering shrubs currently blooming in their yard.

After managing to get the massive bouquet back to the loft Emma had made a round of phone calls to set everyone else at ease. Ruby had laughed and wouldn't stop making innuendos until Emma hung up on her. David had been confused but glad it was nothing serious. It was Mary Margaret that had kept her on the phone for twenty minutes during her break. She wanted more information than Emma could or would provide and had taken to calling her almost every day since to talk about it. Emma had taken to screening her calls.

Unfortunately, she couldn't hide out in the loft forever, even with the week off. While she was able to avoid Mary Margaret she suddenly realized how small Storybrooke actually was. Now aware of the truck that Killian drove she seemed to see it everywhere. It was parked around the corner from the shop, dirt lining the bed and mud caked wheel wells even though the last storm had been weeks before. She had seen it down at the harbor when she randomly decided she wanted fresh caught fish for dinner, brown paint gleaming dully in the late afternoon light. The worst was when she was walking to pick up Henry and saw it turning a corner in front of her. Panicking slightly she had contemplated jumping into a bush before realizing it was David, who had an amazingly similar truck.

That incident alone was enough reason for her not to actively seek out Killian. She had no idea what she would say to him considering she acted like a complete idiot at the expo. Ruby's insistence that he was 'interested' didn't help matters either.

"Emma!" Regina's voice rang out across the studio. "Unless you plan on charming Gold with your sketches I suggest you join me in my office. We can at least gain the upper hand by making him walk back here."

Emma frowned, not at Regina's jibe but at the renewed wariness of their meeting with Gold.

"Welp, at least I got your mind off it for a little bit," Ruby said smugly as she sat back down at her own desk. "Time for you to be our savior!"

"Funny, you should quit and become a stand-up comic."

"Nah, tried it once, wasn't really my thing."

Unsure if Ruby was lying or not Emma just rolled her eyes and headed back to Regina's office. As she passed Jefferson's station she noticed he was fiddling with a bunch of confetti poppers and prayed that he'd at least wait until Gold was out the door before using them. They hadn't booked any appointments during the meeting, leaving it open for walk-ins, and the downtime gave Jefferson and Ruby plenty of time to annoy the other.

Regina's office was small but that hadn't stopped her from purchasing a large and impressive desk. She had papered the walls with a print that was reminiscent of the woods with a large opulent mirror hanging behind where she sat to give the illusion of a bigger space. The most recent additions to her decor were several painted and crayon drawings, courtesy of her new stepson.

When Emma entered the office Regina was sitting behind the desk sifting through paperwork. She was wearing a dark green houndstooth dress that showed off her tattoos but didn't bring them undue attention. Emma, on the other hand, was wearing her usual jeans and boots but had chosen to wear an airy, long sleeved cream colored shirt that was a little nicer than her normal ones. Regina had scowled at her wardrobe choice but Emma wasn't about to dress up to impress Gold.

"Looks like Roland is turning into quite the Picasso," Emma said announcing herself.

"Yes, well, his preschool has moved on to macaroni and I'm suffering the consequences," Regina raised her arm where three macaroni bracelets were dangling from her wrist.

Emma knew better than to believe that Regina was annoyed. When she had first met Regina the woman had been bitter, miserable, and angry at the world. Mary Margaret and Ruby, who grew up with her, had told her that living under her tyrant of a mother and the death of her first boyfriend had made her that way. When Robin and Roland entered her life a whole new person seemed to emerge, someone that hung every piece of art she was given in her office and proudly wore macaroni bracelets as though they were the height of fashion.

"I want you to sit next to Gold," Regina said, pointing to the chair across the desk from her.

"What? Why?" Emma eyed the seat warily.

"Because you're one of the few people in this town that he hasn't manipulated into a deal of some kind. Which means he'll be paying more attention to you, leaving me to get ahead on the negotiations," she explained airily. "Not to mention you have that weird thing about lying which will definitely work out for us."

Dropping into the chair Emma wondered how much use her 'weird thing' would be. It was usually easy to tell when someone was lying. There were certain behaviors to look out for: tics, fidgeting, shifting eyes, unsteady voice, too much detail when explaining; she had learned how to recognize the signs as a way of keeping people who could hurt her or her son away. In all her interactions with Gold he had never shown even a twitch of an eyelid, so he was either a skilled and practiced liar or he always told the truth. Emma wasn't sure which was more disconcerting.

They didn't have to wait long before they heard the distinct tread of Italian handmade leather oxfords and the rhythmic click of a metal tipped cane heading back towards the office. Emma schooled her face into one of disinterest as she watched Regina arrange herself as though she were sitting on a throne instead of an office chair. When Gold appeared in the doorway he made no indication that he was surprised by their seating arrangement.

He was an older man, Emma thought he could be in his late forties or even early fifties. The first time she had met him she had been surprised by his appearance. It seemed everyone in town was, if not in debt to him somehow, extremely wary of what he was capable of. Even Mary Margaret and David had had dealings with him and had warned Emma from getting caught up with him. When she finally met him she had almost been expecting a boogeyman and was instead greeted by a thinly framed man with shoulder length mousy brown hair who spoke with an accent that seemed to flow across the whole of the British Isles.

"I see we're dispensing with all pleasantries and skipping right to business," Gold said as he entered the office and sat in the chair beside Emma, placing a dark brown leather briefcase by his feet.

"You're mistaking me for my mother," Regina quipped. "I don't see the need to flatter you when we all know why you're here."

"A shame, really, I was hoping for one of your infamous apple turnovers," he said, causing Regina to stiffen in her seat. Emma didn't have a chance to puzzle it out before Gold turned to her. "Congratulations, Miss Swan, I hear that your first foray in running the business was met with success."

"Yeah, we're glad that the expo went a little better than expected," Emma answered carefully.

"From what I've been given to understand it went far better than anyone had anticipated, especially given your past Miss Swan," Gold stated as though he was commenting on the weather. "Despite the farce of an empty shop that I walked through I do believe you've been booked solid through the end of July. An amazing feat considering tourist season has only just begun."

"Get to the point, Gold, we do have appointments later this afternoon," Regina snapped.

"All in good time Ms. Mills," Gold ducked his head in mock apology, "forgive me, Mrs. Locksley. I was under the impression that you no longer took on appointments yourself."

Emma could practically hear Regina grinding her teeth in frustration. So far the only upper hand they had was the fact that Jefferson and Ruby weren't causing havoc out in the shop.

"I may not do any actual tattooing but that doesn't mean I'm any less invested in my studio," Regina said with barely controlled anger.

"Of course not," Gold demurred, resting his hands on the gold filigree handle of his cane.

Her thoughts were in a whirl as she tried to determine how best to get the meeting back in their favor. She looked at Regina and saw the fight draining out of her, only to be replaced with resignation.

"What's your price, Gold," Regina said flatly, "Let's just get this over with."

"Taking into consideration the rising cost of property taxes and a seemingly renewed interest in the houses our little town has on the market it appears that Storybrooke is on an upswing. With the uptick in business due to Miss Swan's little gamble I'm sure we can agree that a raise in the rent is to be expected," Gold reached down and picked up the briefcase. "I assure you that this increase is more than fair."

He flicked open the clasps and then the case and pulled out what Emma assumed was the paperwork for renewing their lease with the new figure for their rent. There were three copies, two of which he handed to Regina and herself, keeping the final one in his hand. Looking down Emma scanned the document quickly noting that nothing much had changed from the lease that Regina had shown her when she was first promoted. It wasn't until the middle of the document that she saw what Gold had referred to as 'fair'. Regina's sharp intake of breath let Emma know she had seen it as well.

"Four thousand dollars?" Emma whispered to herself but it was practically a shout in the quiet office.

"Thank you for proving you can read, Miss Swan," Gold scoffed. "I believe that the new rent amount is practically a bargain for what I've been offered for the space."

"You've been floating offers? Without giving us notice?" Regina's ire had returned in full force. "This is a fifteen hundred dollar increase from what we're paying now and I know that it's already leagues above what the other businesses are paying. This is extortion."

"No, Mrs. Locksley, this is business," Gold said coolly. "I haven't increased your rent on the good faith and the deal that you would begin to turn a profit within five years. It was agreed that once Queen's Quills was out of the red and had a positive net income I would be at liberty to increase the rent or seek out new tenants as I see fit. I have brought the original contract with me if you'd like to refresh your memory, since it has been three years since we agreed to the terms."

Emma's head was reeling. Regina had never mentioned any kind of contract with Gold. She had known that that Regina disliked the man and, like others, she'd had dealings with him in the past. With a start she realized that they had reached their deal after Emma had been hired at the studio. If things had been so bad that Regina had been forced to sign a contract to save the studio she had to wonder why Regina had kept her on.

"There's no way we can pay four thousand in rent a month and still expect to keep the studio afloat. What if we agree to an eight hundred dollar increase for six months? It's more than half and we'll have the time to have a stronger foothold in the market," Emma said, trying to exude authority.

"This is not a negotiation Miss Swan. We have a contract."

"Which you wrote to your advantage no doubt," Emma ground out. "How about this, an eight hundred dollar increase to the rent for six months. After that you can increase it to the full four thousand dollars. In return I owe you a favor, open ended, no questions asked."

Regina gasped but Emma just held up two fingers at her, not taking her eyes off Gold. Even watching him as closely as she was she almost missed the slight twitch of his eyebrow and flash of interest in his eyes. She knew he loved having power over others and hoped that the fact she was giving it willingly and with no qualifiers would be enough to keep them from losing everything.

"That's an interesting proposition Miss Swan," Gold said thoughtfully and Emma knew she had him. "I agree."

"Thank you…"

"On the condition that after the six month period is over there will be no more negotiations and the rent will be increased on a yearly basis thereafter. I will also be able to call in my favor at any point in time. Before or after the six months, come what may."

"Emma," Regina tried to warn her.

"Done," Emma said with conviction.

Gold held out his hand and Emma shook it without hesitation. She didn't want him knowing she was already regretting her decision. Somehow she figured he knew anyway.

"Pleasure doing business with you," he smiled, standing with briefcase in hand and leaning on his cane. "Miss Swan, Mrs. Locksley."

They waited until they heard the distant tinkling of the wind chime over the door. Emma sunk back into her chair and Regina dropped her head into her hands.

"Emma, you shouldn't have done that." Regina mumbled, face still covered.

"And you should have told me that you had that contract with Gold. Jesus, Regina we're supposed to be partners in this business now! You had no right to keep that from me," Emma stood up in indignation, but keeping her voice lowered so Ruby and Jefferson wouldn't hear her.

"I know and I'm sorry. I thought he would wait the five years, he's been dealing with my family for a long time and I thought he would remember that," Regina sighed finally looking up at Emma.

"From what I've heard about him I could have told you that wasn't going to happen," Emma scoffed.

"Emma, I'm sorry."

"Whatever, it's done. I need to go pick up Henry," Emma said stiffly.

"Of course. Will you still come to the house on Friday?" Regina asked hesitantly.

"I promised I'd do the face painting didn't I? I've got to go, Regina."

Emma didn't wait to hear Regina's response. She still had a couple hours before she really had to get Henry but she needed to clear her head, something she couldn't do at the studio. It had been a long time since she'd been played for a fool and it wasn't sitting well with her. Ignoring the curious looks from Ruby and Jefferson she grabbed her things from her station and proceeded out the door.

In her agitation and hurry to escape she walked right past the brown truck and the stunned blue eyed driver that had been haunting her for the past week. If she had noticed, she would have laughed at the timing of it all. But she didn't and continued walking down the street completely unaware of the Englishman standing on the sidewalk, watching her retreating form, stunned in her wake.


	6. Chapter 6

**The characters belong to Kitsis and Horowitz but right now it's time to play.**

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"Happy Independence Day, Jones!"

Will's voice was echoing through the apartment. Killian groaned and blinked up at the ceiling. He had hoped to sleep in and enjoy the extra day off the American holiday had given the entire town. Only two places remained open on the Fourth of July: the Sheriff's station, which had most of its officers either in the morning parade or supervising it and Granny's Diner, where the annual pancake breakfast was put on by the Coast Guard and Fire Department. Even the grocery stores and small shops were closed. It was an inconvenience to the tourists who knew nothing of the about it, despite the signs and banners that had been up since the beginning of June detailing what would happen.

"Come on, mate, we promised Robin we'd meet up at Granny's before headin' down to the parade start," Will said as he threw open Killian's bedroom door causing it to bounce off the wall.

"You made the promise, not me," Killian said, gaze still locked on the cottage cheese textured ceiling above him. "Perhaps next time you should ask me if I were actually interested in participating in a holiday that spits in the face of our homeland."

"I like to think of it as celebrating the fact that we dropped the colonies like a hot potato before they went and got themselves in a real bind."

"Because England has done so well for itself in the couple hundred years that's passed," Killian scoffed as he turned his head to look at Will. He was unprepared for the sight that greeted him. "Er, Scarlet, why are you wearing tights?"

Will was leaning on the doorframe to his room wearing a dark brown leather tunic, a white long sleeved shirt, green tights, some kind of brown leather shoe that was a cross between a boot and a moccasin, and to top it all off he was wearing a green felt pointed hat with a jaunty red feather sticking out of the brim. Killian tried not to laugh but then Will looked down at his nylon covered legs in confusion and he couldn't help himself. The man looked like he stepped off the stage of a local theater production of Robin Hood. Killian's laughter broke off suddenly when he realized he was probably in for the same fate.

"Tell me that you're just wearing that for a laugh and you'll be wearing something a bit more…star spangled and dignified," Killian said warily swinging his legs off the bed to sit up.

"There's nothing dignified about findin' new ways to turn a flag into clothing, mate. I've got your get up right here," Will smirked holding up a brown paper bag Killian hadn't noticed. "Couldn't have ya feelin' left out, now could we? Hurry up and throw your pride to the wind, we've made an accord and we honor it despite our thieving ways. Tally ho!"

Will threw the bag at Killian, laughing as he walked down the hallway. Killian opened the bag with trepidation to peer inside. Sighing in relief he saw only a lumpy mass of brown fabric, no tunic or tights in sight. His relief was short lived as he pulled the rest of the items from the bag. Along with a the brown thing that turned out to be a monk's cowl, there was a rope he assumed was to be used as a belt, a pillow with a real belt around it, and a wig that was more of a bald cap than anything. If he had known what was in store for him Killian would have told Robin to bugger off and watched the humiliation from the sidelines.

"Come on Tuck, time's a wastin'!"

Groaning Killian began getting into the costume. Due to the shapeless form of the robe Killian was able to wear normal clothes underneath, something that gave him relief, knowing that he could immediately defrock once they reached the end of the parade. He hunted down a pair of flip flops, not quite keeping with the theme but he figured not many people would be looking at his feet. Stuffing the pillow and wig back in the bag Killian emerged from his room and walked down the hall to find Will lounging on the sofa waiting for him.

"Bless me Father for I have sinned," Will said grinning.

"Fuck off, Scarlet. You could have warned me at least," Killian grumbled, shoving Will's shoulder and walking into the kitchen.

"What, and ruin all the fun?" Will laughed as he followed. "Wouldn't dream of it. Besides, you never would have agreed to it otherwise and we'll finally have a Friar Tuck joining our band of Merry Men."

"I still don't understand what this has to do with American Independence," Killian muttered as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Nothin', which is the beauty," Will remarked, adjusting his hat. "It started as a way to annoy the Mayor, you know a bunch of ex-Brits walkin' in the Big Fourth Parade, but then Robin got it in his head that wearin' Robin Hood costumes and tossin' out chocolate coins to the kiddos would be even better. Plus he was tryin' to woo his lady love at the time and she loved nothing more than pissin' off her mum. Now it's sort of tradition. It's not so bad, the tourists love it and the kids are always happy to get free candy. Plus there's somethin' about a man wearin' tights that drive a woman wild."

Killian hummed into his mug, not wanting to delve any deeper into discussions of what Will used to woo a woman. This was his first Fourth of July celebration and he wasn't exactly sure what to expect. Sure, he had a vague idea from movies and television but he figured it wasn't all mass alien attacks or a grand orchestra performing patriotic marches while an over the top fireworks show lit up the night sky.

Storybrooke was lucky enough to be one of the towns where it was legal to sell, buy, and set off fireworks. He'd already been warned by Anton and Will that the town would slowly become overrun with tourists leading up to the big day and by the time the sun set on the Fourth it would be hard to move without fear of minor burns through the main part of town. Killian didn't have to worry too much about that, he already had plans.

Robin had invited him to spend the holiday at his house where he was hosting a barbeque for his and Regina's employees along with their families and a few other people from town. It would be the first time he would be face to face with Emma Swan again since the tattoo expo. At least, the first time he would actually be able to have a conversation with her.

Two days earlier he had decided to head to work early. There was no reason for it, he had no large orders and they weren't expecting a delivery from the nursery until after five, he just had the impulse to get an early start. As luck would have it he had found a spot to park his truck right in front of the store and as he was locking the door he heard the delicate tinkle of wind chimes.

Killian had turned towards the sound and was immediately greeted by the sight of Emma walking down the sidewalk towards him. Before he could even formulate a greeting she blew past him, a look of vexation and distraction on her face. She didn't even notice him standing there. He watched her walking with a purpose until she turned the corner a few blocks up.

In retrospect he was glad she hadn't noticed him. He had been trying to figure out what he would say to her to apologize for his behavior at the expo, for not telling her that he was the guy arranging her order, and to try and extend a hand of friendship to her. It was a daunting task that he would have botched up if he had tried to talk to her without any kind of a plan. So he had set his sights on Robin's party as the time he would approach Emma and try to strike up a conversation.

"You know they have coffee at Granny's, don't ya?" Will grumbled impatiently.

"Of course, but what are the odds that the coffee they're serving is actually good?" Killian asked, taking another slow sip from his mug.

"Slim to none, I think the fire brigade just dumps the ashes of their fires into a Folger's can and uses that. Their pancakes are always better quality than the piss poor things the Coast Guard doles out, though, which is why we should get a move on," Will said, edging towards the front door.

"Keep your tights on, Scarlet," Killian laughed. "I would hate to deprive you of higher quality flapjacks."

After grabbing the bag with the rest of his costume from his room he and Will made their way to the heart of Storybrooke. Many of the streets along the parade route were blocked off and townsfolk and tourists alike were already lining the sidewalks holding spots for the family and friends who would join them. The closer they got to the center of town and to Granny's Diner the thicker the crowds became.

Killian was only mildly embarrassed by his getup. In fact, with the overabundance of red, white and blue outfits he felt drab and a little like he was thumbing his nose at the spirit of the holiday. Will on the other hand was walking with his head held high, winking at the women he caught staring, and sneaking chocolate coins into the hands of the eager children they passed.

When they finally made it to Granny's there was a line spilling out of the fenced in patio and winding halfway down the block. Will groaned from behind Killian as he stepped into the queue. They had pre-bought tickets and it was only eight in the morning but apparently no one believed in lazy summer days when it came to the celebration of their country's independence. The line moved quickly, however, and soon Killian and Will had full plates in their hands and were searching for Robin and the others they would be walking in the parade with.

Will was the one to spot the group of equally ridiculously dressed men huddled at a table that was meant for four and not the seven crowded around it. Killian recognized some of them from his brief stint at Locksley's, like John Naylor and Alan O'Dayle, but most were just faces he'd seen around town or stopping by the nursery from time to time. Robin, for his part, was trying to get his son, Roland, to finish his food and not get syrup down the front of either of their tunics.

"If you eat one more bite of pancake then John will let you ride on his shoulders for the parade," Killian heard Robin say as they walked up.

"No, Papa, I want to walk with Regina," Roland stated emphatically while standing up in his chair to make a grab for the cup of juice on the other side of his plate.

"Only if you have one more bite of pancake," Robin agreed quickly handing Roland the cup and sliding the plate off to one side. Glancing up he noticed Killian and Will and shrugged apologetically at the lack of eating space. "I'd say sorry but if you can't drag your sorry butts out of bed then you don't deserve a flat surface to lay your plates."

"Ah, don't worry 'bout that, mate," Will said grinning. "I have a feeling you'll be taking Roland to wash up in about ten seconds."

Before Robin could reply Roland let out a small gasp followed by a sheepish 'oops'. Will laughed as Killian and Robin watched the last drops of orange juice fall onto Roland's feet from the upended cup. Heaving a sigh Robin scooped Roland up, making sure to keep his dripping feet angled away and shooting an annoyed look at Will before heading into the diner to use the washroom.

"You know you could have stopped him," Killian said as he set his plate down in the center of the table and grabbed a handful of napkins to mop up the juice on the seat of Roland's chair.

"What and ruin the joy of fatherhood for Robin? Wouldn't dream of it," Will remarked as he sat down in Robin's vacated seat and dug into his pancakes.

A ripple of laughter made its way around the table as Killian tossed the soaked napkins into a nearby bin and sat down on the edge of the chair. He ate quietly as the conversation wound around him. He hadn't realized there were that many people who had relocated from England to Storybrooke or that he actually missed the variation of lilting accents from across the isles.

"Will Constable Graham be joining us as well?" Killian asked, looking around and wondering if would be donning a Sheriff of Nottingham costume.

"Nah, he keeps tellin' us that he can't because of work," Will scoffed. "Like it's that hard to keep an eye on the town when we're all gathered here for the next four hours."

"He's just happy to have a ready made excuse," Robin chimed in from behind Killian, having returned from the restroom. "He'll be at the house later, though."

"Really? Thought he'd use the crowd control excuse to get out of the whole day," Will smirked.

"Ruby threatened to take away his key if he doesn't show up. He'll be there."

The men turned to see Regina holding Roland as Robin tried to wrestle a clean pair of shoes onto the pair of small wiggling feet. She was wearing a Renaissance style dress in white overlaid with a lace design and beading with flowing, sheer sleeves that allowed her impressive tattoos to be seen. Killian had only had a few interactions with Regina but he knew that she wasn't one to dress in costume for fun. The thought that she did it solely for Robin and Roland made him smile.

"What's so funny Killian?" Regina asked narrowing her eyes at him.

"Nothing, just wondering how Robin roped you into this charade as well. I thought you'd be wearing a high collared gown with a crown on your head leading the rest of your workers down Main Street," he answered sitting back and crossing his arms.

"This parade is for the community and the families that populate it, Queen's Quills isn't looking to prey on them for new clientele. Besides, almost everyone else is walking with other groups in the parade. Emma, for instance, will be with Mary Margaret and the summer school kids," Regina said pointedly as she set Roland back on the ground, shoes in place.

Killian's mouth dropped open in surprise. He hadn't even mentioned his preoccupation with Emma to Will, let alone Robin. The fact that Regina had made a comment meant that Emma had talked to her about it and Killian wasn't sure what to make of that information. He quickly shut his mouth and avoided the questioning looks both Robin and Will were shooting him.

"We better get to our place at the parade start," Robin cheerfully announced, clearly trying to put Killian at ease. "Roland wants to walk with you Regina."

As Killian watched he saw Regina's face soften until she was almost unrecognizable. He didn't know the full story but he had heard enough from others that Regina wasn't always the kindest of people. Robin had even told him, after a few too many drinks, that they couldn't stand each other at first but something had drawn him to her again and again. Killian could easily see that Robin and his son had had an equal effect on her.

Their group left Granny's behind as they walked towards the park where the parade started on one side and would finish on the other. To Killian the men were almost a pre-parade at the rate some of them were greeting people saving seats and passing out chocolate coins as Will had been doing earlier. He almost contemplated slipping on the pillow and wig but figured it would best be saved for the actual parade.

When they reached the park it was bustling with activity. There were masses of people lined up along the roadside next to flatbed truck that had been turned into a makeshift announcer stand and judges' table. The park itself had been turned into a sort of community fair with booths for local businesses, people who had homemade crafts to sell, and various food stalls. They would all open once the parade was over but it didn't stop people from idly looking over what there was to offer.

"So," Will said nonchalantly from Killian's side. "Are you going to explain what the hell Regina was talkin' about back there?"

"Nothing to explain, mate," Killian tried to sound unfazed. "Apparently, I've been doing the orders for Emma and didn't realize it until we went to that expo. Emma didn't know who I was either but apparently she does now."

"Hmm, right. I wonder why that is?" Will asked, voice dripping in sarcasm. "Could it be that Emma Swan has finally opened your eyes to the possibilities out there?"

"We both know I'm well versed in what possibilities await," Killian said suggestively, hoping to derail Will's interrogation. "Emma Swan is just one of the many customers I have to deal with."

"Sure, a 'customer'. Next you'll be tellin' me that she's got a nice friend I should meet. Face it, mate, you're a goner."

Will darted away before Killian could land a blow to his shoulder. Looking around he was glad no one else was privy to their conversation. Robin was his main concern. He wouldn't use humor to temper the conversation and Killian wasn't exactly ready to examine what he was going to do in regards with Emma.

Killian spent the rest of the morning avoiding both Will and Robin. He walked the three mile course of the parade between John and a man named Phillip who wouldn't stop talking about his fiancee. He was surprised to find that he enjoyed himself, especially after the parade when it took Anton five minutes to realize it was Killian under the horrible wig and pillowed stomach. The crowds of people didn't faze him as much as they would have normally, even after he ditched the costume and the anonymity it provided.

After an hour of meandering around the park he caught a ride out to Robin and Regina's house in the back of John's truck with almost all of the other 'Merry Men'. They had waved cheerfully at Graham as they passed, knowing he wouldn't pull them over for reckless driving. The ride was relatively short and soon Killian was hopping out of the truck bed onto the gravel driveway in front of the house.

It was a large colonial style house, set back from the main road with the woods that surrounded a majority of the town marking the property line on two sides. Killian had been there a few times but he still marveled at the stately home that seemed to blend into its surroundings with it's cream colored wood siding, dark brown trim, and wrap around porch nearly hidden by the creepers and vines that had claimed the railing as their own. Even the bright red front door didn't seem out of place.

The Locksleys had returned to the house right after the parade, Robin making his excuses about making sure everything was set up for everyone who would be coming over. At the time Killian had rolled his eyes, thinking he had wanted to get Roland home for a nap, but seeing the few cars already parked in the driveway and the ones pulling in behind the truck he had ridden in he realized Robin wasn't lying.

"Don't let the grandeur throw you for a loop, Jones," John said, clapping him on the back. "Robin only agreed to buy the house because he could escape to the woods with nary a fuss."

"Don't let Regina hear you saying that, John. She'll drug your drink and you'll wake up with a drawing of a dick on your forehead and it won't be done in Sharpie," Alan teased, coming up on Killian's other side.

"Or you'll just never wake up. I hear she brews up a drink strong enough to keep any man down, even a giant like you Naylor," Killian smirked as he started walking around the side of the house to the backyard.

The sound of hearty laughter followed him as he rounded the corner of the house and entered the backyard. It was a sloping lawn that led right to the woods and had close to two dozen people already spread across the green expanse or milling about the back porch. A group of kids were crawling over the playhouse Robin had built for Roland the previous summer. Killian spied Roland tagging along behind an older boy with shaggy brown hair, clearly having the time of his life.

He watched as the boy and Roland climbed up on the porch and made their way to another group of kids surrounding something on the porch. Walking towards the porch himself he realized the kids were standing around a seated female figure waiting to get their faces painted. He couldn't make out who the artist was right away, their head was bent and hidden behind a little girl, but he could see the edge of their hip and make out the flames tattooed on it, visible above the waistband of denim shorts.

Suddenly the little girl moved and he realized it was none other than Emma Swan. Her blonde hair was plaited into a queue the fell between her shoulder blades. Killian could make out a the edge of a second tattoo poking out from the collar of her faded red tank top, the tip of a bird's wing from what he could tell. He smiled to himself as he changed course and headed across the lawn to where he spotted Will and August talking to Robin who was setting up a fire pit for later in the evening.

Killian bided his time and stayed out of Emma's line of sight. He knew once she saw him she'd probably avoid him the rest of the party and he wanted to be able to say his peace first. The afternoon wore on and the group of kids surrounding her dwindled until it was down to the last little girl who was getting her face transformed into a white rabbit. Under the pretense of grabbing a beer he stepped up onto the porch and approached the makeshift face painting station.

Emma's attention was distracted by August who had apparently caught on to Killian's plan because he had forced her to turn almost completely away from the yard as they talked. Not wanting to dwell on how obvious his behavior had been Killian slipped into the small chair, one of Roland's, and nodded subtly at August. Lacking any subtlety himself, August pointed at the space in front of Emma and made his escape as she turned to look at her latest subject.

"Hello, Swan," Killian smirked as he watched her eyes widen and her nostrils flair in surprise.

"Killian!" Emma choked out breathlessly. "What are you doing here?"

"I was invited, I'll have you know. Thought you might have figured out who I really was by now," Killian teased, unable to help himself.

"I figured it out the second I read the card that came with that ostentatious bouquet you sent over," Emma said, visibly getting ahold of herself.

"Oh, so you do read the cards. I was beginning to wonder."

Emma blushed lightly, tipping Killian off that she hadn't been reading the cards at all. At least not until after the expo.

"Whether I read them or not, Jones, it still doesn't answer my question: what are you doing here?"

"I'm both offended and intrigued, love. I have every right to be at the this party as you do. Robin's a good friend and can invite whomever he wants to his celebratory barbeque. Now, what has me intrigued is the fact that you've found out my surname. Which means you've been asking about me round the town. I feel honored," Killian winked.

He watched as her blush deepened along with the scowl that was beginning to form. From the corner of his eye he saw Will and Robin edging closer to the porch and elected to ignore them completely. Killian knew he was behaving in a vastly different way than they had seen before. What they didn't know was that he was finally feeling more like his former self, like the man he had been before the accident that had destroyed everything.

"I didn't mean that and you know it," Emma's voice brought his attention back to her. "I meant why are you sitting in that ridiculously small chair talking to me instead of acting like an adult and mingling with the other adults?"

"Perhaps I wanted to get my face painted? One can never be too young at heart."

"Hmph," Emma snorted, looking at him with curiosity dancing in her green eyes. "Do you always talk like you've popped out of a BBC period piece?"

"Not on purpose, my lady," Killian preened and altered his accent to mimic the uptight upperclassmen he'd heard at secondary school. "I would hate to think that my habit of speech has caused you offense."

Emma's lips twitched in amusement and Killian dropped the act, happy in his success at putting her at ease. He smiled genuinely at her and gestured at the face paint.

"Alright, Swan, transform me. I know it will be a challenge but I'm sure you're up for it."

"What did you have in mind?" she said, playing along. "I'm thinking a crocodile would be perfect for you. All green and scaly."

"You wound me, Swan. I was hoping for something a bit more, dashing," Killian lifted his eyebrow and leaned forward. "Maybe a regal lion or a noble wolf?"

A flash of inspiration crossed her face and Killian was suddenly wary of the slow smile she was giving him.

"I'll do this under three conditions. One: I get to decide what to draw, no input or complaining, two: you have to close your eyes until I'm done, and three: you can't wash it off until after the fireworks show is over," Emma said challengingly.

Killian could tell she was expecting him to back down, to stand up and walk away with a weak joke that would serve as a half-assed apology and a nail in the coffin of getting to know her. Squaring his shoulders he looked her straight in the eye with steely resolve.

"Agreed. Do your worst."

"Oh no, Blue Eyes. I'll be doing my best."

* * *

 **A.N.:** **It's okay if you imagined Will and the rest of the Merry Men looking like the chorus line from Robin Hood: Men in Tights because I totally did and Regina's dress is based off the one she wore in the flashback scenes of "Quite a Common Fairy". The Fourth may be over for us but it's just warming up for Killian and Emma.**


	7. Chapter 7

**The characters belong to Kitsis and Horowitz but now it's time to play.**

* * *

"Papa said that the next time he goes on a trip he'll take me with him and we'll go to the zoo to see the walruses!"

"That sounds like fun, Grace, but I need you to sit still or else your bunny face will smear," Emma said smiling at the little girl squirming in front of her.

Grace, Jefferson's daughter, smiled widely before sitting up straight and holding perfectly still as Emma continued drawing on her face. The face painting had been a perfect way to entertain the kids at Regina and Robin's party and Emma found she was happy to do it. Even Henry had sat down long enough to let her draw a cobra on his cheek.

She had shown up at the house a little after she had finished walking in the parade next to the flatbed truck the kids from the summer school program had ridden on. Regina and Robin's ridiculous group had been several spots in front of theirs so she knew they would already be back getting ready for their guests. Emma also figured Regina would have wanted to change out of whatever costume she had worn for the parade as quickly as possible. Even though Henry had begged to stay at the park, where he wanted to spend all his allowance on a hand carved wooden sword and all the food he could stomach, Emma needed to clear the air with Regina before a majority of the guests would arrive. She had to gently remind Henry that his birthday was in a few weeks to get him to finally agree to leave, but not before he talked her into buying a massive ice cream cone.

Emma hadn't broached the subject of her new agreement with Gold with Regina and she had done the same. The tensions had been high in the studio but neither had been willing swallowed their pride to smooth things out. Jefferson had even made a pointed comment about not needing air conditioning when they were in the studio at the same time. Emma knew that if they kept it up it could affect the business and essentially make the deal she made all for nothing. She had decided to be the bigger person and be the first to break the silence between them, even if it meant approaching Regina at her own party.

They'd had a quiet conversation in the kitchen, after Robin herded Roland and Henry to the backyard. Regina apologized for not telling Emma about the contract and Emma apologized for acting impulsively and getting herself ensnared in one of Gold's schemes. There were no tears or comforting hugs, it wasn't their style, but they did spend a good chunk of time verbally ripping apart Gold before other people started to show up. They also agreed to table more talk about what her deal meant for the studio until after the holiday weekend.

When she stepped out on the back porch she saw that Robin had already set up a makeshift area for her to do the face painting. She had quickly gotten started by doing Roland and Henry's faces to encourage the other kids who were showing up to join in. She was facing away from the rest of the party but she found she didn't mind. The excited chatter of the kids that quickly surrounded her was entertaining to listen to and every once in a while an adult would come up and watch her work. Grace was her last 'customer' and Emma was looking forward to enjoying the rest of the party with the adults.

"Is Henry going to have a party for his birthday?" Grace asked as Emma put the finishing touches on the whiskers arcing across her cheeks.

"Yep. I'll be sure to tell your dad so he doesn't forget."

"He won't," Grace said nodding her head once to emphasize her point.

"Alright, missy, you're all good to hop off and go play with the others," Emma laughed and sat back to admire her work.

"Thanks, Emma!" Grace trilled as she bounced out of her chair and ran down the porch steps to join the other kids swarmed around Roland's playhouse.

"Finally free of all the little monsters?"

Emma turned towards the sound of August's voice. He was standing almost completely behind her, in the shadow of the house, so she swiveled in her chair to look up at him.

"They aren't so bad, you know, and your godson is one of them," she said raising an eyebrow at him.

"Well, Henry's always the exception Emma," he grinned scratching at the elegant script of the tattoo spread across his collarbones that was visible due to the sloping neckline of his tank top.

Like Emma, August had only a couple of tattoos but his most prominent one were the words 'no strings on me' that he had made Emma do as soon as she had her gotten her first license. She had been both surprised and honored that he asked her to do it. They had started out at the same orphanage, he a few years older than her, when they were younger and as they grew up their paths crossed every so often in group homes or schools as they were shuffled around the city of Boston. As soon as August turned seventeen he took off never staying in one place for long, choosing to travel the world instead.

Despite this August always managed to keep in touch with her, somehow finding out her address whenever she had moved and showing up to crash on her couch. When Emma had settled in Storybrooke she had invited August for a visit and he'd been living there ever since. He would still drift out of town for weeks at a time but Emma knew that he'd found the same thing she had in the small town, a place to set down some roots and grow.

"He's gotten this idea in his head that someone is going to take him to Nepal for his birthday," Emma said with a warning in her voice. "I've been trying to convince him that a phone isn't appropriate for a twelve year old and then you come along and fill his head with thoughts of climbing Everest and visiting temples in Kathmandu. You know, giving him the book on Nepal would have been enough."

"What fun is there in a book if you can't find a way to experience it for yourself? I'm just sparking his imagination."

"Says the man who is currently writing a book himself."

August's smile widened as he scanned the yard behind her, eyes landing on something or someone that was approaching them.

He pointed joyfully at the chair that the kids had been sitting in for the better part of the afternoon. She was puzzled by August's quick retreat as she turned to see whom she had missed with her face paints. The last thing she was expecting to see were a pair of familiar blue eyes staring back at her, dancing in mirth.

"Hello, Swan," Killian grinned cheekily as she fought to keep her jaw from dropping in surprise.

"Killian! What are you doing here?" She cringed internally at the breathlessness in her voice.

Emma quickly realized she should have known he would be at the party. Regina had mentioned that he would be there but it had slipped her mind completely after their meeting with Gold. He was wearing a pair of cargo shorts, with a white shirt under an unbuttoned chambray shirt with the sleeves rolled up, looking every bit the ideal Fourth of July reveler. She noticed a bit of ink on his forearm but his voice pulled her attention away.

"I was invited, I'll have you know. Thought you might have figured out who I really was by now," Killian chided, still smiling with his accent caressing the words smoothly.

"I figured it out the second I read the card that came with that ostentatious bouquet you sent over," Emma said trying to get a better hold on the conversation.

"Oh, so you do read the cards. I was beginning to wonder."

Emma felt her cheeks heating up. She had barely toppled into a conversation with the man before she was blushing like a teenager with a crush around him.

"Whether I read them or not, Jones, it still doesn't answer my question: what are you doing here?"

"I'm both offended and intrigued, love. I have every right to be at the this party as you do. Robin's a good friend and can invite whomever he wants to his celebratory barbeque. What has me intrigued is the fact that you've found out my surname. Which means you've been asking about me round the town. I feel honored," he had the audacity to wink at her.

The heat in her face flared and she felt her brow as it began to furrow while her lips turned down into a frown. She'd had every intention of apologizing for how she had acted at the expo. It had been bugging her for close to two weeks and with him sitting in front of her, teasing her, she wanted to dump a bucket of water over his head.

"I didn't mean that and you know it," she spit out, annoyed. "I meant why are you sitting in that ridiculously small chair talking to me instead of acting like an adult and mingling with the other adults?"

"Perhaps I wanted to get my face painted? One can never be too young at heart," the mirth in his eyes flaring up.

"Hmph," Emma said dismissing his playfulness. She tilted her head and asked him, "do you always talk like you've popped out of a BBC period piece?"

"Not on purpose, my lady," Killian puffed out his chest setting his hands on his knees. She noticed he was wearing a glove on his left hand that only covered two of the fingers. Before she could think to ask him about it he spoke in a high, reedy, and pompously accented voice. "I would hate to think that my habit of speech has caused you offense."

Emma tried not to smile but she couldn't help herself when he stuck his nose in the air and pursed his lips. He saw her struggle and broke into a satisfied grin, turning to point at the mess of face paint on the table beside them.

"Alright, Swan, transform me. I know it will be a challenge but I'm sure you're up for it."

"What did you have in mind? I'm thinking a crocodile would be perfect for you. All green and scaly," she teased.

"You wound me, Swan. I was hoping for something a bit more, dashing," Killian drawled, lifting his eyebrow and leaning into her space. "Maybe a regal lion or a noble wolf?"

Emma kept herself from pulling back as she considered what to do. Suddenly inspiration struck and she felt like the cat that had gotten the canary. Killian watched her warily as her smile grew.

"I'll do this under three conditions. One: I get to decide what to draw, no input or complaining, two: you have to close your eyes until I'm done and three: you can't wash it off until after the fireworks show is over," Emma proposed.

She waited for him to either take the bait or to walk away. It was hard to read which way he was leaning as his eyes darted between her own. Quirking her mouth so it appeared she was just waiting for him to give up, she watched as he fell right into her trap. He straightened his spine and looked at her with blue eyes that had sharpened with the challenge.

"Agreed. Do your worst."

"Oh no, Blue Eyes," she said reaching for the black pot of face paint. "I'll be doing my best."

Killian's eyes slid closed and she took a moment to collect herself. He had surprised her with his willingness to wear whatever she drew on his face, even if she drew something ridiculous. It was a kind of trust that she had rarely seen from near strangers and something she never exhibited herself.

He opened his right eye and squinted at her in amusement, "You can start anytime you're ready, love. I promise I won't bite, for now."

"Eyes closed, buddy."

With a quick wink Killian closed his eyes and smiled. Emma took note of the dimples at the corners of his upturned lips before giving herself a mental shake. She was painting his face, not committing it to memory. Still as she worked it was hard for her not to notice small details.

Deciding to work on her design in fragmented pieces allowed her to keep him from guessing what exactly she was doing to him. First she outlined a large black circle around his left eye and only partially filled it in covering his eyebrow and upper eyelid. She then moved on to the scar that sloped in an arc up his right cheek towards his eye, highlighting it with the barest touches of red.

As she moved across his face with brushes and crayon-like paint sticks she watched his brow furrow and lift as he tried to determine what she was turning him into. Keeping her free hand on his chin she turned his head as needed, ignoring the soft scratch of his beard under her fingers.

"So, Swan," he murmured as she drew a line from his scalp down to the black circle. "What brought you to Storybrooke?"

Emma's hand paused slightly but knew he noticed, "Who's to say I didn't grow up here, like nearly everyone else?"

"Well, for one you don't have the look that some of the townies have. A little wistful but full of pride when they walk down the street," Killian said, tilting his head to the side but keeping his eyes closed. "No, you have the look of someone who's had a bit of a rough go somewhere else and can't believe you've found a place where you no longer have to look over your shoulder."

"Oh, you're a stalker. That makes perfect sense, now I know why you were at the expo," Emma joked, trying not to let him know how on the mark he was.

"I was at the expo to help a friend in need," he admonished. "Robin needed to use my truck but couldn't make it down to Portland right away. Will and I went ahead to meet him there. I truly didn't know who you were until I saw your name on the cards."

Emma dropped her hands from his face. Deep down she had known that he probably hadn't realized who she was until the expo, the personal touches to her recent bouquets attested to that. She wasn't prepared for the raw honesty in his voice as he tried to explain himself. In that moment she knew he had been as uneasy about their interaction at the expo as she was.

"Are you done already?" Killian asked, eyelids fluttering as he started to open them.

"Not yet, keep 'em closed!" Emma blurted out, panicked.

"Alright, Swan, alright," he grinned, tilting his head dramatically to the side. "No need to fuss."

She huffed in annoyance and gripped his chin again, turning his head back to center and tilting it up. Working for a few minutes in silence she tried to think of a way to gain back equal footing in the conversation.

"It'll be seven years at the end of the month," she said in what she hoped was an offhanded tone as she darkened the eyeliner around his right eye. "I was tired of getting chewed up and spat back out by the city. We needed something calmer, something better than what I had growing up."

"We?" Killian's eyebrows lifted slightly.

"Yeah," she said quietly, focusing on filling in the remainder of the circle around his left eye. "My son and I."

Killian's jaw twitched minutely under her fingers and his lips turned up into a soft smile, "Well, looks as though Storybrooke gained twice the favor."

Emma felt her cheeks heat up at his compliment. She hadn't mentioned Henry as a test, at least not intentionally. Killian's intuition about her not being from Storybrooke originally and his honesty about the expo had made her want to be honest in return. It wasn't her usual way of talking to people she had just met but there was something about him that was all too familiar.

"I know I agreed to not saying a word against what you've fashioned me into but please tell me I won't have to walk around the rest of the day as a panda," Killian pleaded as she finished filling in the left eyelid.

"There's nothing wrong with being a panda, they're adorable."

"Ugh, no respectable man wants to be categorized as 'adorable', Swan, it's a severe blow to the ego."

Even with his eyes still closed she could tell he was rolling them beneath the lids. She smirked as she let go of his chin and sat back to admire her work. It wasn't half bad considering the cheap face paints she was working with.

"Don't worry, you've escaped the dreaded cutesy sea and found yerself in far more treacherous waters," she couldn't help affecting an over exaggerated accent as she grabbed a hand mirror from the table. "Open yer eyes, Jones, and behold the wonder of thy visage!"

Biting back a laugh she slipped the mirror into his hand. Killian opened his eyes cautiously, blinking at the bright afternoon light. Emma was suddenly aware they had an audience for the big reveal. She could see Robin and Will out of the corner of her eye still on the lawn with their faces pressed between the railings of the porch like kids at the zoo. On her other side August, Ruby, and Mary Margaret were huddled together in the shade of the house watching her closely.

"Bloody hell, Swan, if I'd known you'd turn me into a pirate I'd have at least dressed the part!"

Laughter broke out all around her. Turning around she saw the back porch was a lot more crowded than she realized. Several of Robin's employees, some still in their tights and tunics, were behind her with Regina, Graham, and Jefferson interspersed among them.

She had given Killian a painted on eyepatch over his left eye, added a fake scar on his forehead to accompany the real one on his cheek, made it so his lips looked wind chapped and cheeks ruddy, and made the eyeliner around his right eye look like he took makeup tips from Jack Sparrow. She was oddly proud of the final result.

A sudden awareness filtered in as she realized that to the casual observer it looked as if Killian and her were possibly at the beginning of something. Something that she had avoided since Henry was born, letting someone in that had the potential of blowing a hole in her carefully constructed life. A tiny hope, that felt irritatingly like Mary Margaret, burned bright at the thought that it could be the first step towards something else, something good. Emma quickly tamped down the thought.

"Don't worry, Blue Eyes, you've only got about seven hours to go. If I were you I'd work on my pirate lingo," she said in a teasing voice that came out more uneasy than she wanted.

Killian looked at her questioningly over the mirror but she slid her eyes away from his. She didn't need to give him an invitation to ask her any more questions. Luckily for her Henry pushed his way through the people on the porch before Killian could more than open his mouth.

"Hey, Mom, can I have some cake?" Henry asked hopefully. He came to a stop at her side and his expression of pleading turned to one of awe as he caught sight of Killian. "That's not fair, how come you made him a pirate and I just got a snake?"

"Because you wouldn't sit still for longer than two minutes for me to do anything more than that and no you can't have cake," Emma almost laughed as she watched Henry's face fall dramatically in disappointment but held it back. "Not until after we eat dinner later. Why don't you get a bowl of fruit for now?"

"Fine, but I'm going to want ice cream after dinner too," Henry stated matter of factly.

An abrupt laugh from Killian brought back the reality of her situation. Most of the crowd on the porch had dispersed except for the people who would be extremely interested in her dealings with Killian. Even Henry was staring at Killian with bright interest and Emma knew that meant trouble.

"Are you Blue Eyes?" Henry asked curiously.

Emma closed her eyes in embarrassment. Trust her nosy son to let Killian know she'd been talking about him at home.

"I believe so, lad. Unfortunately you have me at a disadvantage," Killian said smiling.

"Killian this is my son, Henry. Henry this is Killian, he's a friend of Robin's," Emma made the introductions hoping Henry wouldn't press for more information.

"Mom told Ruby that you've been sending her a lot of flowers. Is it because you're trying to get in her pants?"

Killian's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in shock. Emma gasped and felt her face heat up a thousand degrees as she squeaked out Henry's name. A ripple of muffled laughter came from behind her but she ignored it, turning in her seat to scold Henry.

"Henry, why would you think that? It's not something you should say to someone, especially someone you just met."

"But you and Ruby talk like that all the time. Even Aunt Mary Margaret says it about Uncle David sometimes," Henry said sending confused looks behind her where she knew Ruby and Mary Margaret were standing.

"You need to apologize to Killian and then we're going inside to have a talk," Emma said brusquely.

"I'm sorry Killian, I didn't mean to be rude," Henry murmured, looking down at his shoes.

"It's alright, lad. No harm, no foul."

Careful to keep her eyes from looking over at Killian, Emma stood and guided Henry across the porch and into the house. She passed a sheepish looking Ruby and Mary Margaret and an annoyingly proud looking August. After she talked to Henry she'd be talking to them as well.

It was a hard talk to have with him. She had rarely been upset with him and almost never about something she had brought on herself. After explaining about private conversations and not repeating everything he'd heard she let him go back out to the party with the promise of ice cream to go along with the cake later. It wasn't really his fault he was just repeating what he'd heard from her own mouth.

"I hope you weren't too hard on him," Mary Margaret said as she entered the dining room where Emma was still holed up.

"Like I could be," she sighed. "It's not the first time he's blurted out something like that. I just didn't think he'd do it with complete strangers."

"I think we both know that doesn't matter to Henry. He's just very trusting," Mary Margaret smiled as she tugged Emma's arm to drag her back out to the party.

"I know. I just don't want him to be upset when someone doesn't see the world with the same rose colored glasses that he does," Emma said, voicing her concern. "He's growing up so fast and I'm just trying to keep him safe."

"Oh, Emma," Mary Margaret stopped walking, turning to look at her. "You can't keep him sheltered from the world forever, we both know it's impossible to keep his curiosity in check."

Emma laughed in spite of her worries.

"This isn't some big city where he's going to get swallowed up. Henry has you, David and I, Ruby, and August, when he's around at least. You need to stop thinking that he's doomed to the childhood you had."

Emma flinched. Mary Margaret always had a way of pinpointing Emma's fears and insecurities. She often wondered if teaching gave Mary Margaret a kind of mothering sixth sense, one that cushioned heavy truths with love and patience.

"As long as you can help me convince August from taking Henry to Nepal for his birthday I'll try and ease up on the worrying," she deflected with a joke.

"Nepal? Didn't he want to take him to Thailand last year?" Mary Margaret scoffed as they walked back outside.

The rest of the party was a blur to Emma, filled with food, drink, and laughter. Every so often her eyes would land on the only pirate at the party, sporting an acquired handkerchief over his dark hair and one of Ruby's hoop earrings. She wouldn't look for long, worried that he might catch her staring, but something about his willingness to play along made her think that maybe she wouldn't absolutely hate having another conversation with him. One where both of their eyes were open.

* * *

 **A.N.: How about all the Comic Con stuff? It just makes me very sad that September 27th is still so far away. I'm also thinking about writing a little one shot about Graham and Ruby, thoughts?**


	8. Chapter 8

**Head's up there's a mention of a character death in this chapter. Nothing too bad but just thought I'd put out a warning.**

 **These characters still belong to Kitsis and Horowitz. Let's play anyway.**

* * *

Killian was singing quietly to himself along with the music coming from the radio on his work table. Which wasn't that odd except for the fact that he hadn't done it in longer than he could remember. When he first noticed that he was doing it he had sat back for almost five minutes staring blankly at the empty clay pot in front of him. It was only when Anton stuck his head out from the back room asking if he was okay that he shrugged in acceptance and got back to work.

It had been three days since the Fourth of July party at Robin's. He felt as though he had thrown off some sort of shutters that had thrown shadows on his outlook on life the minute he had sat in front of Emma and challenged her to do her worst. Even the surprise question from her son hadn't brought on the low grade panic he felt whenever someone suggested he start dating again.

After Emma had ushered Henry into the house he'd had to endure the teasing of the Merry Men along with Robin and Will. Someone had produced a black handkerchief and Ruby sacrificed one of her earrings to complete his pirate look. Wearing the disguise was freeing, much like when he had been galavanting as Friar Tuck earlier in the day. He felt lighter, more open, and judging by the impressed look on Will's face it didn't go unnoticed.

Killian barely acknowledged Anton's farewell as he continued to reminisce about the party. How he had wanted to approach Emma and dispel any awkwardness from her son's blunt but astute question. Henry had emerged from the house with a smile on his face as he apologized again, so Killian knew that she was more embarrassed than upset. Emma and a petite, dark haired woman he vaguely recognized had stepped out on the porch shortly thereafter but Killian had refrained from immediately forcing his company upon her.

The rest of the day and into the night had been spent oscillating between conversing with the adults and being dragged into games with the children. Henry and Roland were the first to approach him, the latter obviously enraptured by the older boy. After a few games of 'pirate tag' as Henry called it the other kids warmed up to him considerably. It wasn't long before cries of 'argh' and 'aye, matey' filled the yard.

Through all of it Emma floated across his periphery. She hadn't been actively avoiding him, at least as far as he could tell. They had even been in the same circle of people for a while discussing baseball, a topic even a recent transplant like Killian had been able to follow. He was able to hold his own in the conversation, mainly making tongue in cheek references to cricket, until Jefferson's daughter Grace appeared at his side and began tugging him back into the fray. Even though he was loath to leave a chance to try and talk to Emma he couldn't say no to the bright brown eyes imploring him to join her.

He didn't catch another glimpse of her until the party gathered in front of the house as dusk was gathering. While they collectively waited for the grand show put on at the harbor to start they entertained themselves with sparklers and smaller fireworks, courtesy of the stands that had dotted the roadsides. The air had been filled with smoke that smelled of spent black powder and rotten eggs but the noxious cloud did little to dissuade the growing excitement as the time for the show grew closer.

Emma had been standing with Ruby and Graham, still in his uniform, August, and the woman from earlier. They'd been watching the kids running around with sparklers, with her boy Henry continually handing off sparklers to each of them in turn. He'd had a feeling that Emma was close with only a few people, a select group that she had deemed fit for being allowed in her life. It was easy to see when he, himself, had done exactly the same thing.

The big surprise of the night came when Henry ran up to where he was standing talking to Will and Robin with Regina off to one side, an exhausted Roland in her arms watching the festivities with tired eyes. Henry was holding a freshly lit sparkler in his hand, a happy grin on his face. When Robin explained that Roland was too young and too tired to hold it Henry had laughed and told them it was for Killian as he carefully handed it off.

Killian had been shocked, mumbling his thanks as he carefully gripped the sputtering firework. Henry shrugged and pointed over his shoulder at his mom, telling them that she sent him over to tell Killian that he was free to wash off the face paint. It had slipped his mind that he was still outfitted as a pirate. He gave Henry a serious look and told him that the deal was for keeping the paint on until all the fireworks were over. With a wink he had sent Henry back to tell Emma that it was bad form to renege on a deal.

Watching Henry skip across the yard he had quickly schooled his face into a look of mock disappointment. When Emma looked over at him, along with the group she was standing with, he raised his eyebrow, slowly shook his head, and smirked. Exercising a great amount of willpower he had turned his back to her and struck up a nonsense conversation with Robin. He'd spent the rest of the night grinning like an idiot to himself at the calculating look she had given him before he had turned away.

He started smiling again as he remembered Ruby loudly calling out to him as she and Graham left at the end of the night. Emma and Henry were walking ahead of her and they had both turned at Ruby's outburst, Emma's gaze immediately settling on him as he gave a hearty wave goodbye. She had rolled her eyes but Henry had waved back enthusiastically, calling out a final 'arg, matey' as Emma turned him back around.

The good mood that had started on the morning of the Fourth had persisted the entire weekend. He hadn't even been put off by Anton's request that he come in on his day off to help in the shop after the holiday. Anton had needed Killian to run the shop while he prepared for a wedding he had booked. Killian figured it wouldn't hurt to make up some of the hours he had lost the previous week.

It had been a quiet Monday afternoon, most of the bouquets the shop created were delivered in the morning to start off the week right. Anton had been fine with Killian working later in the afternoon, since they would both be working after they closed for the night. While Anton worked on the wedding order Killian was tasked with working with the orchids; repotting and adding supports to the ones that were no longer able to stand up under the weight of their blooms. They had worked amiably around each other with the radio quietly playing in the background.

Looking around the shop he was startled to realize that the streetlights were flickering on outside the shop. The sky wasn't fully dark but looking at the clock Killian saw that it was already past eight and he was well within his right to go home. Glancing at the few unfinished orchids left on his work table he decided to finish the job before calling it a night.

Falling back into a steady rhythm he worked contentedly, singing along with the radio and letting his mind wander. A sudden flicker of movement caught his eye and when he looked up to investigate he found himself staring up into the face of an irritated Emma Swan.

"I don't know what I did to piss you off, Jones, but I don't think it's funny," she fumed, staring daggers at him.

Killian was at a loss at how to answer her. Not only because he had no idea what she was talking about but because she had caught him unaware and unguarded. Since he was working with the orchids he had removed his glove and was down to his white undershirt to ensure he didn't snag the delicate flowers. He was in the middle of tying one of the orchids to a support stick and both his scarred hand and tattoo were out for her scrutiny. Any overt move he made to hide either would automatically grab her attention and he was loathe to act as though he didn't care what she thought. He wasn't sure he'd ever be that comfortable with anyone.

The accident had been horrible. He had seen photos of the scene afterwards, during the trial. His car had been almost unrecognizable, the small silver sedan crumpled around the front bumper of the lorry that had run a red light and hit them on the passenger side doing 65 kilometers per hour. Milah hadn't stood a chance, the doctors and medical examiner had assured him time and again that her death had been quick, perhaps even painless. Killian couldn't remember the accident himself, he had woken up in the hospital two days later as a widower with two fingers missing from his left hand.

Masking his turbulent emotions as best he could Killian finished the knot he was tying as he addressed Emma.

"I'm not entirely sure to what you're referring, Swan, but it might have escaped your notice that we're closed," he said in a dry voice.

Emma huffed out a breath as she rolled her eyes. Killian watched as her gaze flickered to the space behind him, then to the radio playing a Whitesnake song, and then over the orchids lining his work table. She didn't even seem to notice his hand, but he couldn't be sure if it was indifference or a conscious effort to not make a big deal about it. He didn't know how long she had been watching him before he noticed her.

"I know, I saw Anton leaving earlier," she dismissed his statement with a wave of her hand. "He told me that you're the one to complain to about what was delivered this morning. I don't know why, though, he's the owner."

"Anton's not really one for confrontation, even with someone as lovely as yourself," he gestured at her with his right hand before sitting back and crossing his arms over his chest, effectively hiding his left. "So, what is it about your order that has you in such an uproar on this lovely Monday evening?"

"You sent me a bunch of green buds!" Emma said incredulous. "I mean, those other flowers, the deep purple ones and pink ones are really pretty but why the hell would you send over a bunch of closed buds? You know I actually pay for nice bouquets to be delivered, right?"

Killian laughed in spite of himself. While he hadn't been working for the nursery for long he had the tendency to forget that others didn't have even his limited knowledge of flora. When he had been preparing Emma's order the day before he hadn't thought much about their current appearance. Not when he knew how breathtaking their transformation would be.

"I take it you're very much into instant gratification. Am I right, love?" He grinned as a light blush stole across her cheeks. "Thought as much."

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response. What did I do to deserve a vase full of little green buds, except for the ones that have what looks like bruises on them. Your time as a pirate couldn't have been that bad," she said, crossing her arms and looked down at him in open curiosity.

"And here I was thinking you had been avoiding me at the party. Especially when you sent your boy to reprieve me of my obligations."

He gazed at her with an uplifted eyebrow. Emma shifted on her feet, her only sign of discomfiture, as she looked back at him impassively. Finally she sighed, breaking eye contact to pull a spare stool up to his work table to sit opposite him.

"I wasn't really trying to avoid you," she confessed. "I just wasn't seeking you out either."

Killian's stomach did a slow turn at her words. He knew there was an attraction between them, he had felt it as soon as he met her. The fact that she made him feel more like himself than he had in months was telling enough. Just the thought of some future possibility made him anxious and balk at idea, but he couldn't let it go, not when she appeared to feel the same pull as he did. To cover his broiling emotions he pulled an orchid toward him and resumed his work.

"Those 'little green buds' are called Lisianthus or Texas Bluebells. They're quite tricky to grow outside of the Southwest but Anton was convinced he could do it," Killian spoke quietly as he worked, keeping his eyes on the orchid he was repotting in front of him. "The ones I had sent over were the first batch to be cultivated from the greenhouses. Anton's aptitude for greenery has proven itself once again.

"Those indigo and pink blooms are part of the same plant, I assure you. Over time the buds will open and slowly change in color to match," Killian glanced up and saw she was watching him work in fascination. "If, however, you are truly dissatisfied with them I'll prepare you another bouquet. Free of charge."

Her green eyes darted to his. A flicker of unease and guilt passed through them before she looked away. He grabbed a support and began tying the stem of the orchid to it, hands moving in sure and practiced movements. The routine of it almost made him forget that his scarred and ruined hand was on display. Almost.

"You don't need to do that. I guess I can wait a few more days to see if they live up to the hype," Emma said with a soft smile. "Besides I don't want to hurt Anton's feelings. Especially if he's put in extra effort for the Texas…"

"Bluebells," Killian supplied. "Good, he's dedicated a whole bloody greenhouse to them. Spread the word, tell your friends, and hopefully his endeavor will be worth it."

Emma laughed and his stomach did another slow roll. It was a surprised laugh, short and loud. The sound of it brought a grin to his face as he finished tying off the orchid and grabbed another one.

"Would you like some help?"

He looked up at her curiously, "I don't want to keep you from anything. Surely your son is waiting for you."

"Nah, Henry's with August having a guy's night," she said fondly. "If anything he'll completely 'forget' he promised to call me to pick him up and he'll convince me that it's better for him to stay the night. He never seems to notice that I hand off an overnight bag to August when he picks him up."

"Does he stay with his father often?" Killian was blatantly digging for information but couldn't help himself. He was still unsure of her relationship with the Quill's piercer and figured it would be best to find out from her, instead of second hand from the gossip at Granny's Diner.

"His father?" she asked, puzzled. "August?! No, August isn't his father. I mean he's Henry's godfather but not his father, father. Henry's dad isn't around, never has been."

Killian was almost too caught up in what felt like relief to hear the distress in her voice on the last statement. It spoke of abandonment and disappointment, the kind that had long been a part of her life even before Henry's father had come along. He recognized it because the vestiges of his own abandonment sat heavy on his heart. Not even Milah, with her love and sense of adventure, had been able to remove that shadow.

"So, what's the story?" Her voice had returned to a calm demeanor but Killian knew it was just a mask.

"Which story? I have many."

His gut was churning. Emma's question gave no indication to where she was steering the conversation. He waited with bated breath as she rolled her eyes again and opened her mouth to speak.

"What brought you to Storybrooke? It's not like you looked at a map and decided a small seaside town in Maine was the perfect place to drop anchor. I didn't even know it existed until a flat tire kept us here for a few days," she said with a sense of wonderment. As though the flat tire was a blessing instead of a stroke of bad luck.

Killian's thoughts scattered as he tried to come up with a suitable answer to her question. One that would satisfy her curiosity, yet stay away from the painful truth.

"Will, my cousin, moved here when Robin did. Robin's store had been a success in England but he felt it was time to move on and a few of his loyal workers made the leap across the pond with him."

Killian paused when he saw understanding flair in her eyes. Robin had fled England much the way he had, to escape the memories and heartbreak of losing a wife. It was why Robin had been so forgiving about Killian's behavior and why Killian felt a kinship with the man that went beyond being English transplants. Regina must have shared part of the story with Emma, for her not to question him further.

"I was having a rough go of it back in England when Will suggested I move here. Apparently Storybrooke is the ideal place to move on from the past, for more people than just myself it seems."

"I wanted Henry to have a better childhood than I did. We found Storybrooke on accident but sometimes I wonder if it was fate. I've found more of a family in this town than any of the places I was tossed around to in Boston," Emma's voice was quiet and reverent.

"I know how you feel, love."

He was surprised at the sudden realization of that fact. Despite missing Milah so much some days that it hurt to breath and the light shame he felt at having seemingly abandoned the memory of his brother and what he had stood for he had found a home in Storybrooke. The small group of people in the town he had grown to depend upon had brought him back to life in many ways. Even the woman sitting across from him, whom he had only spoken to three times, had unearthed a piece of himself he thought he had lost.

"If you'd really like to help then your assistance will be much appreciated," he said jovially to dispel the tension.

"I offered didn't I?" Emma quipped as she looked over his work table. "But this might be a good time to tell you that I have more of a black thumb than a green one."

"Don't worry, love, you won't be required to prove your botanical prowess," Killian laughed as he pulled a new orchid in front of him. "I'll do the actual plant handling, if you'll be so kind as to tie on the supports when I've finished."

"Sounds easy enough."

Once Killian corrected how tightly she was tying her knots they worked in companionable silence. It wasn't long before he was on the last orchid and ready to call it a night. The problem was he wasn't sure he wanted his night with Emma to end.

"What was so important about these plants that you had to stay after hours?" Emma's voice broke through his thoughts.

"The orchids," he said pointedly, "aren't very important. Anton is doing the floral arrangements for a wedding this weekend and I graciously volunteered my time to help in the shop. Despite having to come in on what would be my day off."

"Hmmm," she hummed, idly fiddling with a loose piece of string. "Were you guys closed on the Fourth, too?"

"In the weird tradition of this town, yes, we were closed," Killian winked at her when she looked up at him. "My being here may also be a way to recoup the pay I lost due to your absurd holiday."

"Absurd?" she scoffed, indignant. "I'm sorry we Americans like to celebrate the fact that we managed to escape from being under the thumb of tyranny. To rejoice that our forefathers had the insight to free our great nation."

"Who sounds like they've popped out of a period piece now, Swan?"

Emma blushed brightly as she huffed out a laugh. "Touche. I didn't think you usually worked Mondays, I've never seen your truck around."

Killian felt his eyebrows raise and barely kept his jaw from unhinging in surprise. Emma's blush deepened as the realization of what she said hit her.

"Keeping tabs on my work habits are you? Pity it took a lackluster bouquet to get you in here to admit it," he joked. "Although, perhaps I should be alerting the authorities that I have a stalker."

"In your dreams," she said, rolling her eyes, blush receding. "I had to drive behind that truck for the entire trip back from Portland, it's permanently etched in my brain now."

"And what vessel do you captain, Swan? A Honda Civic? Or perhaps a mini-van to transport young Henry and his cohorts around town?" He tried to imagine her behind the wheel of either his suggestions and failed.

"Oh, er, a Beetle. Probably not the safest car for a mom but it was the first thing I've ever owned outright," her eyes darkened slightly but a smile remained on her lips. "Henry loves it so I doubt I'll ever trade it in."

"Wise decision. They don't quite make them the way they used to."

Silence settled over them again, the sound of the radio the only thing keeping it from dissolving into something uneasy. He pushed the last orchid toward her and watched as she tied the support to it with sure hands.

"After the expo I did wonder why I'd never seen you in town before," Killian supplied. "I guess even a small town like this can still hold some surprises."

"I usually work weekdays, while Henry's at school," she said smiling, with a quick glance up at him. "It's not the busiest times at the shop but I'm able to be there for after school things and to make sure Henry does his homework, to make him dinner and tuck him in at night. It's the closest I'll get to having a normal work schedule without having a normal job."

"You're talking to someone who works at a nursery most days of the week and creates floral arrangements for various townsfolk. Who's to say what 'normal' really means."

Emma looked up at him in wonderment. He fought the urge to look away but couldn't help the hand that lifted to scratch the back of his neck. A sudden buzzing broke their gaze as Emma jumped and reached into her pocket.

"Just like I said, Henry's asking to sleep at August's," Emma said as explanation. She frowned at her screen and looked back up at Killian "It's late, I should probably go."

"Right," Killian tried to bury the flash of disappointment he felt. "Don't feel the need to stay any longer, Swan. I'm pretty much done here and you've already given enough of your time as it is."

Thanking him she stood up from her stool. Killian resisted the urge to reach out and keep her from leaving. She gave him a small wave and started walking towards the door. His head started swimming in trying to sort through his feelings and what they could mean when she turned back to look at him.

"Henry's birthday is next week and we're having a party at David and Mary Margaret's house. They put in a pool back in May and Henry's invited all his friends but there'll be adults there too. I mean, if you're not busy or whatever. I know Henry would be thrilled to see you, he hasn't stopped talking like a pirate since the Fourth and he dragged me to the library for books about them…"

"Swan," Killian grinned, interrupting her.

"Yeah?" She asked nervously, shifting from foot to foot.

"I would be honored to attend your son's birthday party."

She smiled brightly at him.

"Good. I'll, uh, see you then. Oh, it's next Thursday at one," she strode back to his work table and pulled a random piece of paper and pen towards her and scribbled out an address on it. "This is where the party's at. You can't miss it, the Nolan's house has that whole white picket fence, Better Homes and Gardens feel about it."

"Should I bring a treat for their golden retriever as well?" Killian asked, partly serious.

"No," she laughed. "Just something for a boy turning twelve. I mean, if you want to, there's no obligation."

"Obligation or not, I don't want to be the one to show up empty handed. I'll be there with gift in hand."

With one last smile directed at him Emma walked out of the shop. Killian sat back and tried to make sense of the turn his night had taken. As he cleaned up his work table and turned off the radio he wondered what a twelve year old boy would enjoy for a birthday present. When he caught sight of his damaged and scarred left hand he also wondered, if perhaps, it was too late to catch himself from falling for the woman who could make him feel like a whole man again, if only for the brief moments they had spent together.

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 **A.N.: I was going to mention this milestone in the next chapter but then I realized that by word count alone this is the longest thing I've ever written and that it actually reached that point in the last chapter. The funny thing is I've mostly plotted out the whole thing and we're still a few chapters away from even the halfway point of the story. I want to thank everyone that's followed/favorited/reviewed but a special shoutout to LexieMcSteamy, lupis93, and blueMnM415 who have been extra encouraging as this story moves along.**

 **You can also find some photos of Lisianthus on the Stains of Ink page of my Tumblr, along with some gifs of Colin working with Orchids from Christina Perry's The Words video. ;)**


	9. Chapter 9

**I'd like to extend a hearty welcome to the people who've joined the fun due to Tumblr's CS AU week. Hello, glad to have you aboard.**

 **The characters, as usual, still belong to Kitsis and Horowitz but now it's time to play.**

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"Tell me again why you invited him?"

Emma looked over at Mary Margaret who was placing the last of the candles on Henry's birthday cake. Glaring back down at the onion dip she was mixing she was at a loss at how to answer the question for the twentieth time.

"To be nice?" She answered uncertainly. "I don't know! We were talking and I was helping him with some orchids and I got caught up in what it was like to get to know someone."

Mary Margaret quickly looked up at her. Emma could feel her gaze boring into her as she kept her focus on the bowl in front of her.

"So, you like getting to know him?" Mary Margaret asked carefully.

"Yeah, I mean, it's nice talking to someone who hasn't heard all my stories," Emma tried for a joking tone.

"I haven't even heard all your stories," Mary Margaret mumbled, turning back to the cake. "I'm glad you're putting yourself out there, though. You can't keep your heart locked up forever you know."

"Oh, Mary Margaret, it's not... I don't think… that's not what I meant," Emma stuttered trying to stop Mary Margaret's train of thought. "He's an okay guy, once you get past the flirting, but nothing is going on. He's just someone new to talk to."

"Okay, okay, no need to get upset," Mary Margaret placated. As she turned back to the cake she frowned. "You know, it probably would have been easier to buy the number candles instead of trying to place all these little ones."

"There's only twelve of them," Emma teased as she used a chip to clean off the spoon she had used to stir the dip.

"I know, but I'm having a hard time deciding where to put them."

"Maybe I just like watching you try not to destroy my beautiful cake decorating masterpiece. Do you know how long it took me to figure out how to lay out the fondant right?"

Mary Margaret looked down at the cake that Emma had made for the party. It was actually three separate cakes decorated to look like Captain America's shield, Iron Man's helmet, and Wolverine's fist, claws out and all. It had taken months of practice and a few lessons at the bakery to get it right. She fully anticipated to be eating cake for dinner for the next two weeks but it was worth it to see the look on Henry's face when he had seen them on the counter.

Emma had been quietly preparing for Henry's party all week. It was the first time she was able to buy almost everything on his wishlist, a new phone notwithstanding, and the first time she had given into his pleading for a big party. In the past she had limited it to one or two friends, for her own sanity and her work schedule. When she had told Henry that he could invite anyone he wanted and that it could be a pool party, if he wanted, he had been over the moon. His excitement had been enough to tamp down the stress at putting the whole thing together.

She had also been using the party preparations as an excuse to not over analyze her interaction with Killian the week before. Emma had only stopped by the studio to see if Ruby wanted to grab a drink at the Rabbit Hole but Jefferson had let her know that Ruby left early for a date with Graham. She had caught sight of the bouquet of closed buds at her station as she was leaving, the ones that she had complained loudly and emphatically about when they had been delivered that morning. It had been a lucky thing that she ran into Anton when she did because her annoyance had really gained a head of steam when she left the parlor and saw Killian's truck parked out front.

Anton had been quick to slide the blame for the delivery onto Killian with a delighted smile on his face. It had thrown her at first, why the owner would encourage a customer to confront a worker instead of taking care of the complaint himself. He mentioned that the man in question was still in the shop and she was welcome to go in. Before she could blink Anton had laughed heartily and walked away, leaving her even more confused standing in front of his flower shop.

Figuring she could dwell on his behavior later she had entered the shop and her irritation at Killian flared up when she saw the beautiful bouquets lining various shelves and work tables in the shop. There hadn't been a bell or chime on the door to announce her presence, so she had been able to approach him and finally be the one to get a firm grip on whatever conversation they were going to have. Her confidence in her plan faltered when she saw him sitting at one of the work tables hunched over an orchid.

He'd been wearing a short sleeved white shirt and she was able to get a better look at the tattoo on his arm, a heart with a dagger and some writing on a scroll. It wasn't the ink that had her rethinking her approach, it was the sight of his left hand that made her hesitate.

Emma hadn't dwelled much on the glove he had been wearing on the Fourth, in fact she thought it was part of his Merry Men costume that he had decided to keep on for whatever reason. The sight in front of her raised many questions in her mind but she did understand one thing: Killian went to great lengths to conceal his missing ring and pinky fingers and the gnarled scar tissue that was in their place. She knew, how she did she'd never know, that he would be extremely uncomfortable with her inadvertent discovery. With a split second decision she had decided to confront him, as planned, and not draw attention to his injury unless he did.

When Killian noticed her and she started complaining she immediately noticed the stiffness of his shoulders and the forced casualness of his movements. It wasn't until he crossed his arms, hiding his hand and tattoo that he was able to relax marginally. Her curiosity piqued but she knew it was neither the time or the place for her to go digging into his past. Emma knew far too well that prodding someone for answers was the best way to get them to never tell.

The rest of the night was something Emma had never really experienced. The quiet acceptance of her quasi-confession to avoiding him at the party, the way he gently explained why he sent her the half in bloom bouquet and then offered her a replacement struck a chord deep in her. That he would do not only explain his motives and then offer her something else without question was something she wasn't used to. She was used to fighting tooth and nail to get the things she felt she deserved.

Her volunteering to help him was both an apology for her outburst and a way to discover the man behind the plants and flirty winks. As they had worked and talked he became more fluid in his movements, almost as if he stopped worrying about hiding his injury. She hadn't been lying when she told Mary Margaret that it was nice to get to know someone. The push and pull of information that colored in the details of a person's life was something she hadn't experienced in a long time.

Even the brief mention of Henry's absent father hadn't upset her too much. He must have picked up on her feelings, though, because he then quietly shared a part of his own past. Something in his voice and his mention of Robin's history gave Emma a big clue to the kind of man he was. She still had no idea what happened but she was sure that the loss of his fingers and the meaning behind his tattoo were the reason Killian had moved to Storybrooke.

"Emma!"

Mary Margaret's hand came to a rest on top of hers, stopping her from absently eating another dip covered chip.

"Ah, was I zoning out?" Emma said sheepishly as she half-heartedly offered the chip to Mary Margaret.

"Just a little," Mary Margaret laughed as she grabbed the chip. "You should probably make more dip if you want anyone else to have some."

Emma looked down at the bowl and saw that a good amount was missing. She had a weird habit of snacking through her thoughts as she puzzled something out. Usually it happened on late nights helping Henry finish a school project he neglected to mention until the day before it was due. She would send him to bed and then stay up munching on a bag of pretzels until they were gone and the project was finished. It had been a while since she had done it for something to do with her personal life, the last time it happened Regina had offered her the partnership and she had devoured a bag of cookies that were hidden in Ruby's station. Ruby still hadn't forgiven her.

"It's a good thing I bought extra sour cream," Mary Margaret remarked as she slid a tub of it across the counter. "Although, I thought David would be the one eating all the dip."

"Very funny, David hates it and you know it," Emma grinned as she opened another mix packet.

"Yeah, but I hope to change his mind someday."

"You two have been together since college and you haven't done it yet. I think it's about time to give up on that dream," Emma smirked as she began stirring.

"I'll never give up the hope that I can steer him onto the path of delicious snack foods. It worked with you," Mary Margaret sounded smug as she dug through her cupboards. "Where is that punch bowl?"

"You made David put it in the cupboard over the fridge because 'We never use it and there's no point in it taking up useful space,'" Emma quoted in a falsetto voice.

"I don't sound like that!" Mary Margaret huffed as she walked across the kitchen to open the sliding glass door leading out to the backyard.

It was only an hour before the party was scheduled to start but Emma was fully aware that David and Henry were already in the pool. They had given her and Mary Margaret the flimsy excuse that they had to make sure the water wasn't too cold and that all the new pool toys needed to be tested before the guests showed up. Emma had played along because she knew they would be more of a hinderance than a help in getting everything set up.

"David, I need your help!" Mary Margaret yelled sticking her head out the door. A distant shout carried into the house that Emma recognized as her son. "No, you can stay in the pool Henry, just don't drown."

"That's comforting for a mother to hear being said to her kid," Emma deadpanned as she pushed the bowl of newly mixed onion dip away. "Really makes me feel safe leaving him with you two."

"He's twelve now, he can handle himself," Mary Margaret said, ducking back into the kitchen.

"Twelve, I still don't believe it. I feel like it was just yesterday he was sneaking into my room because the monster under his bed wanted a cookie. Now he's sneaking into the kitchen to get one for himself," Emma sighed wistfully, looking out the window over the sink and catching a glimpse of Henry jumping into the pool.

"He's still your little boy Emma, just not as little as he used to be," Mary Margaret said quietly coming up to her side.

"I know, he can almost reach the cookies without getting a chair now. I've taken to hiding them in cracker boxes or old coffee cans."

Mary Margaret pulled Emma into a one-armed hug as they watched Henry climb back out of the pool and get ready to jump back in. They turned together as David slid open the glass door and stepped inside.

"What's up?" David's smile faltered as he caught sight of them. "Is something wrong? Whatever it is we can fix it."

Emma laughed as she watched Mary Margaret roll her eyes. David had slung a towel around his waist but it was doing little good as he dripped water steadily onto the linoleum. His gazed darted from Emma to his wife and relaxed when he saw that they were perfectly fine.

"Be a prince and grab the punch bowl from the cabinet over the fridge," Mary Margaret said sweetly as she frowned slightly at the water pooling at David's feet.

"You mean the one that we never use and I had to put it there because it took up valuable space?"

Emma had to stifle her laugh with her hand as Mary Margaret glared daggers at the two of them.

"Yes, that one. Hurry up, you're dripping all over my floors," she barked, grabbing a kitchen towel and throwing it at his feet.

"It would be an honor, my lady," David said as he bent into a deep bow, water from his hair contributing to the growing puddle on the floor.

They spent the next hour preparing the rest of the food and setting it up on the tables in the back yard. David and Mary Margaret's yard was small compared to the acre of lawn behind Regina's house but Emma preferred her friends' backyard to her boss'. Emma had told Mary Margaret that the first time they had gone to Regina's house together. Mary Margaret had shot her a skeptical look but Emma was serious.

The house the Nolans lived in was in the middle of a neighborhood that could easily be in the background shot of Leave it to Beaver. When Mary Margaret had shown Emma the listing online, in between sharing her wedding Pinterest boards, she'd drug Mary Margaret out of the loft to see it in person. Emma had been amazed that the picture online wasn't photoshopped and told Mary Margaret to put a bid on it as soon as possible. She couldn't imagine them living anywhere else.

Over the years they had remodeled the kitchen and relandscaped the front and back yards but kept the rest of the house pretty much the same. In a gesture that had surprised Emma they had decorated one of the spare rooms for Henry to use. She had immediately told them it was too much and they just as quickly shut her down, telling her that even though he wasn't their nephew by blood they felt as though he was anyway and he had every right to a space in their house. Emma had needed to take a walk around the block so she could regain control of her emotions.

She had repaid them by painting the room they used as an office to look like a forest glen dappled by sunlight. Mary Margaret had been overjoyed to find the clusters of snowdrops along the baseboards on her side of the room. They both silently acknowledged the field of buttercups Emma had added at the last minute for what it was: an acceptance that they were a family together.

"Hey, Emma! Did you want the presents out there or inside?" David was yelling out at her from inside the house.

"Out here!" She yelled back from out on the patio as she unwrapped plastic utensils and placed them in cups. "We wouldn't want the whole party to be dripping all over Mary Margaret's pristine floors."

"You're right she might ban us from the house altogether!"

"Don't think I won't," Mary Margaret's voice floated out from the master bedroom window. "I know that Henry would be more than happy to have you stay at the loft for a few nights David."

"That'd be great!" Henry called from the pool. "We could play the new game Mom got me!"

"And what makes you think I got you a game?" Emma asked, turning in Henry's direction. "Let's take a break from the pool for a bit until the rest of the party shows up."

"I know you got me a game because you kept asking me what it was called and then you took a picture of it at the store when you thought I wasn't looking" Henry said happily as he splashed out of the pool and grabbed a towel from the pile Mary Margaret had left on a chair.

"Do you know everything I got you?"

"Well, I know you also got me some clothes but left those boxes at home because I didn't see them in the car and you didn't get me a phone because August told me to pretend I wasn't sad. I'm not because he said he'd get me one for Christmas," Henry chattered away happily as he grabbed a handful of chips.

"Good to know we can keep secrets around here," Emma said flatly.

"I don't know what the rest of it is, though. And I don't know what Aunt Mary Margaret and Uncle David got me. Plus all the people that are going to be here will be bringing presents too!"

"Hey, what did we talk about on the way over here?"

"That it's not just about the presents, it's about having fun with my friends," Henry spoke as though by rote and rolled his eyes but was smiling the whole time. "You also said to be nice to Roland even if he follows me around all day again and not to forget to think about what I'm going to say before I say them."

"Exactly, although I could have gone without the eye roll, kid. Now sit down and I'll get David to start grilling some hot dogs so you don't just eat chips and dip for lunch," Emma said pushing him gently towards one of the empty tables. "Do you want the works on your hot dog?"

"Yeah, but no onions or relish and only a little bit of mustard but a lot of ketchup."

"Okay, extra onions and relish with half a bottle of mustard and no ketchup. Got it."

"Mom!"

Emma laughed as she stepped into the house to grab the hot dogs and the cook from the kitchen. Mary Margaret joined them outside, dressed in an airy cover-up over her bathing suit and armed with a can of spray on sunscreen that she immediately set about spraying them all from head to toe with. With Mary Margaret on the attack Emma stole back in the house to change into her own suit and a white floral print dress that she'd had for so long it couldn't even be considered worth wearing in public, so she'd taken to wearing it as a cover-up.

Party guests started showing up almost the moment Henry finished his two hot dogs and Emma was glad she'd gotten him to eat when she did because he quickly became a ball of activity. Among the classmates from the previous school year Henry had also invited a few new friends from the summer program. A chorus of shouting kids welcomed the new arrivals as they entered the backyard through the side gate and soon Emma could barely hear the person standing next to her.

August had shown up with Jefferson and his daughter Grace and they were almost immediately followed by Regina and Robin with Roland shyly hiding behind Robin's legs. Ruby had strolled through the gate soon after with a giant box in her arms and winked at Emma's disapproving glare. Twenty minutes later Emma was still watching the gate at the side of the house, even though she knew all the invited guests were there. All but one.

"You know, staring at the gate doesn't make people show up any earlier. It's kind of like waiting for a pot of water to boil," David spoke nonchalantly from Emma's side.

"When was the last time you boiled water? Aside from trying to figure out how to melt snow faster," Emma bit back, turning away from the gate she was definitely staring at to look at him.

"I've been known to cook up some mean spaghetti every now and then. You'd know if you and Mary Margaret would release me from the bonds chaining me to this grill," David pointed his tongs down at the barbeque in front of him.

"I guess we would, but then who would grill us the best hot dogs in all the land?" Emma smiled.

"The young squire Henry has to earn the mantle sometime. Perhaps it's time for me to take on an apprentice."

"Perhaps, but probably not today," Emma said, leaning around David to watch Henry talking excitedly with his friends, waiting for the all clear that they could enter the pool having finished eating a bit earlier.

"So, if this guy doesn't show up do I have permission to punch him in the jaw?" David asked offhandedly.

Emma's head whipped quickly back to look at him, "What! No! Why would that even be something you'd think about doing?"

"You haven't really dated anyone since I've known you and..." David faltered as he caught sight of the look of exasperation on Emma's face. "Okay, what did I get wrong?"

"I'm not dating anyone," Emma ground out, turning around to glare at Ruby and Mary Margaret were admiring the cakes on the table across the patio.

"Oh, sorry, I just assumed," David touched her gently on her shoulder, causing her to look at him. "It's not their fault, they didn't say anything. I just overheard Mary Margaret on the phone and jumped to conclusions."

Emma sighed and buried her head in her hands. This was one of the reasons she had been second guessing her invitation to Killian. In a small town like Storybrooke the rumor mill was always running and it seemed she was caught up in the current.

"It's okay, David," she mumbled. Not wanting to be the black cloud at her son's party she plastered on a smile, lifted her head, and called out to the crowd of people, "Alright, I think the munchkins have waited long enough. No roughhousing, no running, and no splashing someone who isn't already in the pool. Go for it!"

The yard filled with the sound of shrieking kids and a loud Tarzan yell from Henry as he jumped headlong into the pool. A few of the braver adults joined them quickly organizing a game of Marco Polo. Emma turned towards the pool and watched with amusement as David abandoned his grilling duties to get back in, pushing August in as he walked by. She felt her smile relax as she listened to Jefferson calling out and the chorus of kids and adults answering while she pulled the last of the hot dogs off the grill and closed the lid.

"Sorry I'm late, Swan, my ogre of a boss decided we were obligated to take in a shipment of apple tree saplings and then go over each one to ensure the grafts would take hold."

Emma looked over at the voice coming from over her right shoulder. Killian was watching her carefully, still dressed in the camel colored cargo pants and forest green polo all the workers at Anton's Harvest wore. She was surprised to find that she was annoyed with his tardiness but still oddly excited that he had shown up. Then she caught sight of the carefully wrapped present in his hand.

"I said you didn't have to get him anything," she said, eyeing the package accusingly.

"And I said I'd be here gift in hand and here I am," he opened his arms as though he were presenting himself to her. "A tad overdressed but I hope I'm forgiven."

"As long as that isn't a pair of tickets to a location halfway across the world or a phone then you're forgiven," Emma said as she poked at the box in his hand.

"Damn, I knew I should have taken a gift receipt when I bought those exact things. Shame to think they'll go to waste. Unless I can persuade you use the tickets to run away with me," Killian waggled his eyebrows at her as he shook the present gently under her nose.

"Whatever's in there definitely doesn't sound like plane tickets and even if they were what makes you think I'd go anywhere with you?" She said incredulously as she snatched the box from him.

It was slightly heavy for its size and when she had grabbed it from him she had felt a couple things shifting around inside. She motioned for him to follow her across the patio to the table laden with presents.

"Don't take this the wrong way but we both know you don't back down from a challenge. I have a feeling you've got the same attitude about an adventure," Killian waited for her to look up at him, mischief dancing in his eyes. "I can assure you, love, going anywhere with me is always an adventure."

Emma rolled her eyes and placed his gift on the table with the others.

"So what's in the box, Blue Eyes?" She asked crossing her arms.

"Well, it's not Gwyneth Paltrow's head, I can guarantee that much," he winked but Emma could see the tips of his ears turning pink. "I may have asked Robin what an appropriate gift would be. He told me that I was safe getting anything comic book related. I think safe is a bit of an understatement."

Emma watched as he looked around the yard at all the party decorations. Aside from the cakes there were streamers and balloons in red and gold, purple and green, and black and red. A large pinata, made to look like Captain America's shield, was hanging from a branch on the elm tree in the back corner of the yard. Emma had even found plates, napkins, and cups featuring the Avengers on sale the month before and had cleared the store out of everything they had.

"Yeah, it's pretty much a guaranteed obsession for anyone Henry's age. We've seen the latest movie three times. I had to put my foot down after that," Emma said indulgently. "I've been told that another one is coming out next month so I'm already mentally preparing for it."

"Wise idea, Swan. I haven't seen many of the films but the ones I have were fairly impressive. I got the lad a couple of comic books. I wasn't quite sure which ones to get but there were rave reviews for this one writer's take on Hawkeye. I hope that's okay," Killian was looking at her with a seriousness that belied the easy tone of his question.

"He doesn't have anything Hawkeye so it'll be perfect. Why Hawkeye though? Most people just gravitate towards the ones that have their own movies."

The tips of Killian's ears started turning pink again and a light flush crawled up his neck. Emma watched in fascination as he rocked on his feet and wouldn't meet her questioning gaze.

"I had read the reviews but I wanted to make sure it was a worthy gift. I may have downloaded a few issues to check," he glanced up at her quickly before his eyes darted to look at where she had set his present. "I ended up reading all that was available. There's something I quite liked about an ordinary man dealing with a shit life who still stood side by side with heroes to fight the good fight."

There were very few times that Emma had found herself speechless, especially when it came to dealing with men. Killian had put extreme thought and care into the gift for her son, whom he had only met once and with embarrassing results. It was so far beyond the realm of her experience that she only realized she was staring at him with her mouth agape when he glanced back at her and a look of panic flashed across his face.

"Apologies, Swan. I should have consulted you first but I didn't have a way to get in touch with you, aside from calling your studio. I'll just take this…" Killian reached for the gift but Emma quickly grabbed his hand, absently noting it was his left one.

"Don't you dare. Trust me when I say he'll love it," Emma squeezed his hand gently and then let it go. "So, are you planning on changing or will you be trudging around the party in that the whole time?"

"If you wanted to get me out of my clothes so badly you didn't need to use your son's party as an excuse, love," Killian smiled toothily as she huffed out a laugh. "I have a change of clothes in my truck but I didn't want to assume I'd be allowed to stay."

"I invited you didn't I? Go get your stuff, Hawkguy, the bathroom is down the hall and to the left."

Killian's face lit up as he caught the reference. She winked and pushed him on the shoulder, turning and propelling him back towards the gate. Smiling she realized that being the subject of town gossip wasn't too bad, not when the person she was linked to was the guy throwing her a smile and a wink as he walked out of the yard.

* * *

 **A.N.: I've posted a rough floorplan for the Nolan house on my Tumblr in case anyone is curious and yes, it's Matt Fraction's Hawkeye that Killian gets for Henry. A great comic that I recommend that everyone go out and read if you haven't already. BTW I'm also insanely jealous of the theme of Henry's party, I would totally throw a Marvel themed party if I had the room for more than two people in my crackerjack box apartment.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Yep, the characters still belong to Kitsis and Horowitz but now it's time to play.**

* * *

Killian could hear the shrieks and laughter of the kids in the pool through the small bathroom window as he changed into shorts and a well worn t shirt. He still didn't feel as though he had the right to be at the party. Will had given him an odd look when Killian had casually mentioned it the week before. It was the thought of Emma grabbing his hand without hesitation and her teasing smile that kept him from making his excuses and leaving as soon as possible.

When he had called Robin for gift advice Killian was surprised that he already knew about him attending the party. Apparently Ruby had wheedled the information out of Emma, Regina had overheard her talking to August about it and she had mentioned it to Robin later that night. Killian had thanked Robin for his suggestion about comics and quickly gotten off the phone with him. He wasn't used to being fodder for the small town gossip mongers but he was glad it wasn't for anything unbecoming.

Gathering his work clothes he wondered if Emma knew that people were talking about them. Undoubtedly she did but he had the feeling that she either didn't care or she did but wasn't going to make a scene that would just add fuel to the fire. Shifting his clothes so they were under his arm he stuffed his socks into his boots, slipped into a pair of sandals, and opened the bathroom door before grabbing the boots and walking down the hallway.

Killian could hear voices coming from the direction of the kitchen. He recognized Emma voice and figured the other one was Mary Margaret. When he had walked into the backyard and saw Emma talking to a man at the grill he suddenly remembered why he had vaguely recognized Mary Margaret at Robin's on the Fourth. He had helped her and her husband pick out plants for their front yard a few months before. The shrubs had taken hold nicely and Killian was pleased that they seemed to have gone back to the nursery and bought one of the other plants he had suggested to them.

"Please tell me that the chlorine hasn't altered my vision and Blue Eyes actually showed up!"

The sound of a sliding glass door slamming shut followed the outburst of a voice he believed belonged to Ruby. Killian walked through the living room and came to a stop around the corner from the kitchen. He knew he was asking for trouble, or at least overhearing something he shouldn't, but he couldn't help himself.

"Jesus, Ruby, speak louder next time I don't think they could hear you all the way down at the harbor," Emma's voice scolded.

"We don't use chlorine and you weren't even in the pool," Mary Margaret chimed in.

He could hear them moving around the kitchen opening drawers, running the sink, and opening various packages and containers.

"Minor details but, seriously? I thought he'd get Robin to make excuses for him or show up and bail leaving Robin to make excuses for him," Ruby said incredulously.

"He didn't seem like that kind of guy when he helped David and I at Anton's. Where is he anyway? I saw you talking to him and when I looked back he was gone," Mary Margaret's voice was tinged with ill concealed curiosity.

"I knew it, he did bail! What an asshole!" Ruby sounded like she was ready to rip him apart.

"Shut the fuck up, Ruby! He's changing out of his work clothes and can probably hear every word you're spewing out in here," Emma whispered harshly, sounding equal parts embarrassed and annoyed.

Killian could imagine the blush staining her cheeks and decided he needed to see if he was right. Coughing loudly and with no hint of trying to make it sound real he walked around the corner into the kitchen.

He was right about Emma's blush but he was more amused to watch Mary Margaret and Ruby's faces flush a bright red and avert their eyes. Looking over at Emma he had to bite down a laugh as he saw her struggling to do the same.

"I'll just take these out to my truck," he held up his boots and nodded his head at the clothes under his arm, "and then I'll go round saying 'hello' to everyone."

"You can just put them in Henry's room," Emma said brightly, avoiding the astonished looks her friends were giving her. "It's the one with Cap's shield lodged in the door. Can't miss it."

He smiled and winked at Mary Margaret and Ruby and turned to walk back down the hall. He could hear a volley of whispers in his wake and felt his smile grow.

When he found the bedroom in question he entered slowly, looking around the room curiously. It was decorated to Emma's son's taste but he couldn't figure out why the Nolans would have had it done. There was obviously a deeper connection between them and Emma than mere friendship. He resolved to ask her about it as he used the time he was given to get to know her.

Killian placed his clothes on the foot of the bed and lined his boots up on the floor. There were a few overnight bags strewn on the bed and around the room. Apparently the pool part of the party was just the beginning of the festivities. He suddenly remembered the small gift he had intended for Emma and pulled it out of his pants pocket, holding it gently in his left hand.

Returning to the kitchen he was unsurprised that Emma was the only one there. She had probably run off her friends in order to spare herself more embarrassment from them and himself.

"Are you hungry? Everyone else has already eaten but there's still some hot dogs left. There's also chips or veggies and dip. If you're thirsty there's beer in the fridge and the kid friendly stuff is outside," she offered, looking at him expectantly from the far side of the kitchen island.

"Ever the consummate host Swan?"

"Well, I learned from the best."

"Your mother must be proud."

Killian realized his mistake quickly. Emma's smile tightened and her eyes appeared to dim slightly but her response was neutral bordering on flippant.

"Mary Margaret actually. She almost had me enrolled in elocution classes at one point. Pick your poison, Jones."

"I'll have a beer then. No need for a hot dog though, I had a particularly filling lunch at work."

Emma nodded once and turned to the fridge. He had figured her story was one full of sadness but he hadn't thought it would so closely mirror his own. An orphan always recognizes their own.

"We have stuff from Sea Dog IPA, some from Allagash, and a bunch of Sam Adams which must have been brought by Jefferson because there's no way David would buy it for himself," Emma said peering over her shoulder at him. There was no sign that his gaffe had soured her mood permanently.

"Never tried Sea Dog before but it sounds like my kind of beer," Killian grinned as Emma rolled her eyes and reached into the fridge to grabbing two bottles. As long as she was still responding to his ill attempts at humor then he was still in her good graces.

While she was occupied with popping the caps off Killian brought his left hand up and placed his right hand over his gift for Emma. When she placed a bottle in front of him he offered her his cupped hands with an excited smile. She looked at his hands warily before holding out her own hand under his.

"I know you said you have a black thumb when it comes to plants but I believe even you might have a hard time killing this one," he gently opened his hands and placed a small spiky plant onto her palm. "It's an air plant. They're almost easier to take care of than a cactus seeing as how they don't need to be repotted."

Emma was holding her hand at eye level, peering at the plant so closely that her eyes were almost crossed. Lowering her hand she looked at him straight on and he answered the question that she hadn't asked.

"It's a thank you, for helping me the other night and for inviting me today. It's not every day that I'm asked to attend a superhero themed birthday party."

What he didn't say was that he was also thanking her for not treating him as though he was broken. She had seen his hand, was probably burning with curiosity to find out what happened, but hadn't asked him about it at all. Will hadn't even been able to keep his questions to himself after Killian had moved in.

"Are there complicated care instructions? Because, to be honest, August had to rescue that orchid you sent over before it ultimately died by my hand," she said with complete seriousness.

Killian laughed, grabbing the beer bottle and tipped it in her direction, "Don't worry, love, all you have to do is remember to sit it in some water for an hour every two weeks or so. They take all the nutrients they need out of the air, hence the name. Just set it somewhere in your home and it'll do just fine."

"I think I can handle that," Emma laughed and took a sip from her own beer. "Why plants?"

His confusion at her abrupt question must have shown on his face because she laughed again before clarifying.

"Sorry, it's just, you don't seem like the type of person whose first career choice was florist. I know you worked at Locksley's when you moved here and, I don't know, it seems a better fit than Anton's," she was looking at him earnestly waiting for his response.

Killian realized that he had found the perfect opportunity to learn more about her without seeming too eager for her answers.

"Alright, Swan, I'll tell you if you tell me how you've become such a renowned tattoo artist," he grinned as she scoffed at his praise. "A tale from me begets a tale from you, tit for tat as it were."

"Quid pro quo, Doctor Lecter?"

"Very good, Swan! Didn't think you'd pick up on that one," Killian was ecstatic that she seemed to be willing to play along and that she got his reference. "Are you up for it? I promise my past involves no consumption of human flesh, at least not in the most literal sense."

Right on cue Emma rolled her eyes as a light blush stole across her cheeks. He used her distraction to quickly decide how to tell his story without touching on the darkness that would pull him under. It wasn't as bad as thinking about Milah, the wounds weren't as fresh, but it was a close thing. Losing his brother was just another bad card dealt to Killian in his disaster of a life.

"Alright, Blue Eyes, I'm up to the challenge," Emma smirked, pulling him out of his dour thoughts. "I believe I asked you first."

"That you did, love. You're right on one account, my goals in life resembled nothing of the man you see before you today. It was always to be a sailor's life for me but one thing or another happened and I had to leave that notion behind."

He couldn't tell her how he had longed to follow in his brother's footsteps, to enlist in the Royal Navy or perhaps follow Liam into the private sector. How when he did follow his brother it was only a little over two years later that he abandoned his dream and had been landlocked ever since. Or even how he still felt the call of the ocean, a siren's song that could only lead to pain and misery. They were at a party not one of his therapy sessions.

"I've worked the odd job here and there over the years. Nothing worth turning into a career and definitely not worth boring you with the details. It seems I was destined for the same aimless path when I moved here, starting at Locksley's and almost immediately jumping ship to work at Anton's. Turns out I have a knack for horticulture and an eye for floriculture."

"And are they career worthy traits?"

Emma's question caught him off guard. Even though he had mentioned not finding a career he had never given thought that perhaps he already had. Killian still longed for the open sea, to sail off into the horizon with nothing but the wind at his back, but it was a longing for escape not a way of life. The more he contemplated his answer the more he realized that his job was more than just that. It was his way of connecting with the world again, of adjusting his expectations of himself and his capabilities, and the peace he found working at the nursery and in the shop was akin to how he had felt in the brief time he was a sailor. Realizing he had left Emma's question unanswered he gave her a gentle smile.

"I believe they are."

The sound of the sliding glass opening on his left stymied any awkwardness they might have felt at the seriousness of his answer. Looking at the person who both saved and interrupted their conversation he suddenly remembered where they were and why they were there. Mary Margaret was smiling apologetically at Emma, sneaking a look at him as she spoke.

"Henry's asking where you are. I think he wants to do the pinata but I can't be sure because David decided at that moment sneak up and pull him under the water. He's getting back at him now but I don't think he'll be distracted for long."

"Shit, yeah, I'll be right out," Emma said quickly and started walking out to the backyard. "Help yourself to some food or another beer. Mary Margaret can help you find anything you need."

Before he could say a word she was already halfway across the yard, her dress fluttering around her thighs. Sighing quietly he took a long pull from his beer. He briefly wondered whether Emma would keep up her end of the bargain. Shaking his head he knew she would, he had yet to see her back down from him.

"I never got the chance to thank you, Killian," Mary Margaret's voice came quietly from her spot by the sink. He had forgotten she was still in the kitchen with him.

"I'm not quite sure for what but you're most welcome regardless."

"The yard was one of the last things we did to the house. David and I couldn't quite figure out what we wanted to do and the rest of the remodeling had been easy up to that point. Your advice and suggestions went a long way to finally making this house completely ours," she said fervently, as though he had slain a dragon instead of shown them a bunch of plants.

"It's a lovely home and I'm honored to be here. I noticed the hydrangeas are taking hold nicely, did you use any soil additives when you planted them as I suggested or did you just take a gamble and ended up with blue blooms?" Killian leaned forward on the island, his professional interest taking hold.

"David wanted to add whichever one would make the blooms pink."

"By increasing the alkalinity of the soil." He said, nodding.

"Sure," Mary Margaret shrugged. "I wanted to see what we would get if we just left them alone. He finally agreed when I told him that if he doesn't like what we get he can do whatever he wants to the soil."

"And the verdict?"

"He hasn't said a thing about it since we put the pool in. That's been the big project of the past few months," she groaned, rolling her eyes dramatically.

"Well they're doing well and the woodruff you've planted in front of it compliments it greatly."

"The woodruff is amazing, it's so fragrant!"

"As an added bonus the deer should keep from eating them down to the root," Killian's attention was drawn to the sudden uptick of yelling and laughing from the yard. "Seems as though the lad did want to destroy the pinata."

Mary Margaret followed his gaze and gasped as she saw Henry wildly swinging a bat around his head in an attempt to make contact. August appeared to be in charge of the rope and kept dropping the pinata to tap the top of Henry's head before quickly pulling it out of his reach. Emma had her back to the house but Killian could see her shoulders shaking with laughter.

"Shoot, I was supposed to be in charge of the spinning," Mary Margaret lamented as she waved her hands at him to lead the way out of the kitchen into the yard.

"I think Ruby's taken on that responsibility, lass," he said pointing at Ruby who was twirling one of Henry's friends rather quickly before handing him the bat and making a hasty retreat.

"It's a good thing they did the pinata before cake," Mary Margaret muttered as they came up to the edge of the group. "If you'll excuse me, I'll just make sure no one gets so dizzy they lose their lunch."

Killian laughed as Mary Margaret pushed through the shouting adults and kids watching the spectacle. It soon became clear to him that August was working the rope so that every kid would get at least one hit but at the same time ensuring that they would all get a chance to try. Even Roland, who was far shorter than the bat and needed Robin's assistance, landed a solid hit. Finally it was the birthday boy himself that landed the explosive blow. Excited hollars filled the air as the kids, and a few adults, swarmed on the candy littering the ground.

It didn't take long for the last of the candy to be stuffed into the bags that had been provided. Acting quickly, before anyone could jump back in the pool, Emma and Mary Margaret herded everyone to the patio claiming it was time for presents. Henry led the way and perched happily on the chair David had placed next to the table of gifts. He immediately started with the largest box, earning a clap of approval from Ruby.

"I'm glad you made it. You've made me twenty dollars richer," Robin said smugly next to him.

"Making bets with Will again? Bad form, Locksley," Killian tutted disapprovingly.

"If he'd learn to make bets he actually stood a chance of winning I might reconsider."

"The reasoning of which implies that you knew I'd show up today."

"Obviously. You'd have to be blind to miss the fact that you're thoroughly enjoying the time spent with Miss Swan over there," Robin said jovially. He turned to look at Killian straight on. "It's not terrible, you know, starting to move on. After I lost Marian I didn't think anyone but Roland or those obnoxious blokes that work for me could make me smile again."

They both turned to where Regina was trying to keep Roland from 'helping' Henry unwrap his presents. Sensing a tantrum brewing she quickly distracted him with a lollipop from his pinata loot and hastily wrapped a few party favors in discarded paper. The ecstatic look on Roland's face and the relieved one on Regina's when she handed it over had both men laughing.

"I'm perfectly content with my life," Killian said half-heartedly, not even bothering to turn and see the look of skepticism on Robin's face. "Besides Emma and I are… friends, in a way. There's nothing more going on between us."

"She invited you to her son's birthday party after only a few conversations with you. I'd be willing to bet you're both headed toward something more than friendship. Don't deny yourself a chance at happiness because you feel like you're dishonoring the past," Robin said earnestly, clapping his hand on Killian's shoulder.

Killian trained his gaze on where Henry was still making his way through his presents. Robin squeezed Killian's shoulder gently and then made his way over to Regina and Roland. It seemed as if it was a day where Killian's past was determined to swell up and capsize what should have been a good time.

He had met Milah in a similar state when he was twenty-one. The emotional wounds from his brother's death had still been fresh, even after two years. They had met in a seedy pub in London, she had been on the rebound and he had been looking for a good time. It was an escape for both of them, a way to bury the past and have fun.

Milah had been a calming yet exciting force in his life. She was able to tamp down his temper and channel it into better things. What had started as a step back from the harsh realities of life had soon become their way of living. They had both been young and optimistic, taking on the world.

When they had first been together they had been constantly on the move, only stopping when they needed to earn some money to go on. The longest they had stayed in one place was when they had found an abandoned cottage on the coast of France and had stayed there for three months before they moved on. They had gotten married in Alexandria with nothing but the well worn rucksacks on their backs and five years worth of dusty roads on their shoes. It was perfect and Killian had been happy.

They had travelled for three more years before returning to England. Killian had started to feel as though he was constantly running away instead of building a stable life. Milah hadn't protested, just encouraged him to do whatever he felt he needed to do and she would be by his side no matter what. They had found a small flat in Reading and settled into a sense of normalcy; steady jobs, nights watching movies they'd missed during their travels, going to the corner grocery when the milk ran out, weekend trips into London if they didn't feel like staying in. It was good, not exciting or full of adventure, but it didn't matter because to Killian it was everything he needed.

Two years later Milah was gone and he had found himself right back where he was when she had entered his life: a broken man with nothing holding him together.

"Oh, wow, thanks Killian!"

Henry's excited voice dragged Killian back to the party. He had a sense of discord as he tried to shake off the memories and present a good face to the others that were looking at him. Emma was smiling widely and warmly at him. His felt brittle and hollow in return

"Think nothing of it lad," Killian turned to address Henry, relieved that his voice sounded normal.

"Mom already read some of them because a guy wanted a tattoo that looked like the comic but she wouldn't let me read them because they belonged to him," Henry explained as he riffled through the pages. "I can't wait to read them."

"You'll just have to wait until later, kid. There's still a couple more presents and then we can do the cake," Emma reminded him as she handed him one of the few remaining presents.

"I know, geeze Mom, like I'd forget about the cake," Henry scoffed as he reached for another present.

Laughter rippled through the party and Killian was glad that the attention was diverted from him. Henry opened the last of his gifts, one of which was a set of books about Nepal and an expensive looking camera which sent him into such paroxysms of excitement that it took both Emma and August ten minutes to calm him down.

Henry had apparently been under the impression that August would be taking him to Nepal, from what Killian could hear from his spot at the back of the group . Emma glared angrily at August over Henry's head, which was bowed in disappointment, and Killian could hear Mary Margaret and Ruby admonishing August's tendency to build up Henry's hopes.

Killian had hoped to make a quiet exit before the cake was served, to go home and have a drink, or four, but he could see that doing so while Henry was upset would be in poor taste. Taking a deep breath he edged his way up to where Emma was still trying to comfort Henry, aware of the people watching his approach.

"Tell me lad, what's the trouble?" Killian asked in a low voice, kneeling amidst discarded wrapping paper.

"Nothing. I just thought I was getting something that I wasn't," Henry's voice sounded choked with tears. He didn't raise his gaze from the ground in front of him

Killian looked up at Emma and saw her stricken face. He had the insane urge to stand and break August's nose but took a deep breath and focused on the disillusioned boy in front of him.

"Would that thing have been a trip to Nepal, perhaps?"

Henry gave a small nod, still not looking at Killian.

"Hmm, Nepal. A nice place to visit, if I'm given to understand but I never had the chance to go that far in my travels," Killian said thoughtfully as he scratched his chin. "I've been a great many places in my long life but never to Nepal."

"You can't be that much older than Mom," Henry said quietly, sneaking a look at him as though to verify his age.

"I promise you lad, I'm older than I look. When you've wandered the globe you end up living several lifetimes unknowingly. I'd say I'm closer to being three hundred than thirty-three."

Henry mumbled something that had both Killian and Emma leaning in to hear better.

"Say again?" Killian could see the rest of the party being tended to by Mary Margaret and David out of the corner of his eye.

"Not the whole globe," Henry answered finally looking up at him.

"Indeed, but I've seen my fair share. I don't think I've seen a more beautiful sunrise than when I was in Greece. I was sitting on the shore of the Aegean Sea and the sky was a fiery orange. As the sun crested over an island in the distance the water went from being slate grey to dancing in oranges and yellows and even pink. The best part was as the sun crawled higher into the sky the birds starting greeting the day, creating a symphony with the sound of the waves. It's very different from watching the sunrise over the water here."

"Have you seen the Northern Lights?" Henry asked, sounding more upbeat.

"Indeed, many times in fact. My favorite is watching them while lying on deck of a ship. The rise and fall of the water under your back almost makes you feel as though the Lights are the one moving you."

"Cool," Henry whispered in awe. "I just wanted to go on an adventure. I've never even left Storybrooke."

"From what I've been told you haven't always lived here," Killian smiled at Henry, who scowled in return.

"I don't even really remember Boston so it doesn't count."

"That may be the case but you don't always have to travel halfway across the world to find adventure. Sometimes there's one in your own backyard."

"We don't have a backyard. We don't even have a front yard," Henry pouted.

"Then borrow some of Robin's, he's got more than enough to share," Killian said jovially.

"Too true, Henry, there's plenty of adventure to be had in our woods. In fact, we should plan a campout before summer is well and gone," Robin suggested to the party at large.

Henry's bright smile amongst the nods and votes of agreement brought the mood of the party back up. He quickly thanked August for his gift and apologized for making a scene before bounding over to his cakes and demanding that no one sing Happy Birthday to him. Killian watched as Henry ran back to grab his new camera, which August had promised was ready to go, and began to take pictures of everything he could.

"Thank you, Killian," Emma's voice came quietly beside him. "I told August not to get him too riled up about Nepal. Apparently he didn't listen."

"It was the least I could do," Killian said abashedly, stopping himself from scratching behind his ear as he turned to look at her. "Couldn't have the birthday boy feeling down on such an important day."

"I think you've just secured your position as Henry's new favorite storyteller. I hope you're up for that," she said with a challenge in her voice.

"I believe you know the answer to that, Swan."

"Mom, come light the candles before Uncle David starts singing!" Henry called out, waving around a box of matches.

"Duty calls," she shrugged and then leaned in conspiratorially. "I'll give you five bucks to start singing Happy Birthday after I get those damn candles lit."

"For you, love, I'll do it for ten," he winked, earning an eye roll in return.

In the end he stayed for a piece of cake and a round of beers with the other adults in attendance. When he left he was sent home with a sizeable chunk of cake courtesy of Emma and a scowl from Henry, who was still embarrassed by the rousing chorus of Happy Birthday that Killian had initiated. As he got in his truck to drive home he was no longer thinking about the drinks he had been desperate for earlier, instead he was wondering how long before he would be able to see Emma again.

* * *

 **A.N.: I had planned a completely different end to this chapter but the characters had other ideas and believe me when I say it's way happier than I had originally intended. Be sure to check the Stains of Ink page on my Tumblr, I'll be posting the video I found on YouTube of the sunrise that Killian described. Until next week.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Just to warn you this chapter kind of got away from me so it's a long one. Enjoy!**

 **The characters belong to Kitsis and Horowitz, let's play.**

* * *

Emma was trying to concentrate. She had been working closely with the girl currently under her needle for weeks, getting to know her, tweaking the design, perfecting it. It was a beautiful piece, or it would be if Emma could find a way to shut Ruby up for once.

"Two weeks! I called Graham after only two hours, how the hell have you waited two weeks?" Ruby was incredulous, as she had been everyday since Henry's birthday party.

"For you two hours is pretty much two weeks," Emma mumbled, pausing to push her glasses back up her nose with the back of her wrist.

"Can you believe that there's this incredibly hot, actually decent, British guy that has a thing for our Emma here and she's done nothing about it?" Ruby asked the dark haired girl lying on the adjustable bed in front of Emma. "What's your name again? If we're gonna have this conversation we need to be on a first name basis. Mine's Ruby."

"Don't encourage her, she'll keep talking either way. She'll just inject your name in her tirade every now and then. Okay, I'm going to start again." Emma glared at Ruby before bending over the girl's side again.

"I'm," the girl gasped as Emma passed over a sensitive spot, her tan skin paling, "Jay."

"J? Like the letter? Is it short for something?" Ruby disappeared but quickly returned on a rolling stool.

They were in the private back room due to the placement of Jay's tattoo. Not only did she need to lay down on the only bed they had but Jay had wanted her tattoo to be along her entire right side, which required some privacy since she'd be half naked for most of the session.

"Yeah, it's short for Jasmine," Jay grit out in pain.

"Like in Aladdin?" Ruby waited for Jay to nod. "I can see it. Is that why you're getting a tiger?"

Emma was glad Ruby was finally distracted and leaving her alone. It was hard enough to concentrate on her work without having to defend herself while she did it. Jay was getting a tiger climbing out of water along her right side. They were only doing the outlining and some shading during the session but Emma still needed to focus.

"Kinda, but not really. I mean, yeah, I got a lot of tiger stuff as a kid because of the movie but I'm getting the tiger because I work with the World Wide Fund for Nature, particularly their efforts to protect the tiger's habitats. One thing kind of led to the other," Jay let out a shaky breath and Emma paused for a moment.

"Neat! Do you get to travel a lot?" Ruby asked wistfully.

"Yeah, I'm headed to Nepal in a couple of months," Jay looked at them confused when Ruby and Emma snorted in laughter.

"Sorry, it's not you, Nepal is a big deal around here," Emma reassured her. "We're almost done with the line work and then we'll take a break, is that alright?"

"Yeah, okay," Jay said, taking in a deep breath. "Didn't think it'd hurt this much."

"The ribs are always super sensitive but it's totally worth it. Especially since Emma's the one creating the masterpiece," Ruby practically glowed with pride.

"Thanks, mom," Emma said rolling her eyes and turning to Jay. "Ready? Here we go."

The buzz of the machine was the only thing to be heard in the room. For about a minute.

"You know, Blue Eyes really came through with that whole sunrise story. Kinda like a knight in shining armor," Ruby said rolling around to the other side of the bed to face Emma.

"So now you're back on his side?" Emma said, resigning herself to having the conversation.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You were ready to tear him apart when you thought he left the party early. The next day you were ready to tear me apart for not making him stay at the party longer. Last Sunday you couldn't believe he hadn't contacted me at all during the week and just five minutes ago you were jumping down my throat because I haven't called him. I feel like I'm on a loud and annoying rollercoaster," Emma stated blandly, knowing Ruby would immediately jump to defend herself.

"I'm so sorry that I'm looking out for your well being. I mean, come on, you haven't dated anyone since the sad excuse of a relationship that was with Graham. You still haven't spilled the beans on what happened with Henry's dad, even though I know you've told Mary Margaret, who by the way won't tell me anything."

"Good to know she can actually keep a secret from time to time."

"I know right! She's the reason I missed homecoming in our senior year, she just couldn't keep her mouth shut about me going to a hotel with Peter during junior prom. Wait, we're focusing on you here!"

Jay snorted in amusement and Emma had to stop tattooing due to her own laughter. Getting herself under control quickly she started working again.

"Look, I get where you're coming from," Ruby rolled her eyes as Emma looked up at her incredulously. "Okay, maybe not entirely but I know enough that you're dying to go out with this guy but something is keeping you from jumping in feet first."

"And what do you know about my wants?"

"Please, like you don't smile like an idiot when you walk in Monday mornings and see whatever new fancy flowers he's sent over or that, somehow, your smile gets even bigger when you read the ridiculous cards that come with them. Or that you've been looking up sunrise videos on YouTube or figuring out where it's possible to see the Northern Lights without trekking to the North Pole. Admit it, you've got it bad," Ruby leaned back and crossed her arms with a smug smile on her face.

"Maybe I just like looking at pretty things," Emma said lamely.

"Like Blue Eyes, perhaps? Jay, you should see this guy, I mean if I wasn't already in a solid relationship with a ridiculously hot guy I would be going after this other ridiculously hot guy," Ruby sighed, fanning herself with her hand.

Emma felt a sliver of something twist in her gut, a hot poker that ignited at Ruby's confession.

"Blue Eyes?" asked Jay.

"His real name's Killian but who cares about that when you've got the color of the sky on a summer day staring back at you?" Ruby said dreamily. "Even Mary Margaret noticed them, and you know how much she likes to wax poetic about David's baby blues."

Emma gritted her teeth and tried to focus on the tattoo. She was almost done with the outline and when she was she was planning on taking a long break in the alley behind the shop, alone. Jay had held up a lot better than Emma had anticipated and they were moving along at a great pace. If Ruby didn't distract her anymore Emma felt like they'd be finished in time for her to grab lunch at Granny's.

"I wonder if his lips are as soft as they look," Ruby wondered, tapping her own lips with the tip of her fingers.

"Jesus, Ruby, can you give it a rest? I'm trying to not fuck up this tattoo and you're over there jabbering on about how hot the guy is," Emma snapped, sitting back to glare at Ruby. "Sorry, Jay, I promise your tattoo already looks amazing, despite Ruby's interruptions."

"It's okay, the drama's distracting me from the pain," Jay said smiling.

"Don't worry Jay, my work here is done," Ruby said smugly as she started rolling out of the room on her stool.

"What?" Emma asked, confused.

"I finally got to point out how adorably hard you're crushing on Blue Eyes right now, I made you jealous with my pointed observations, and you admitted that you think he's hot while cussing me out. I gotta say, a better outcome than I was hoping for," Ruby smiled widely as she turned and rolled away calling back over her shoulder, "You're welcome!"

Emma stared at the empty doorway in disbelief until Jay gently touched her arm, causing her to jump slightly.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Let's get this line work done and I think we both need a little break," Emma said, smiling gently.

It only took ten minutes for Emma to finish. She gave Jay a robe and told her where the bathroom was before stepping quietly out of the room. Ruby was at her station prepping for an appointment so Emma was able to make a quick exit through the back hallway. At least she tried to.

"Emma."

Regina had called out from her office, which happened to be across from the door leading to the alley. Emma drew in a deep calming breath, knowing that her break would have to wait. As she entered Regina's office she tried to keep the look of annoyance off her face but from the look on Regina's she hadn't been successful.

"I know you're probably going out back for a break but we need to talk about New York," Regina started talking before Emma was able to sit down.

"New York? As in the city? What about it?"

"Not quite, more like Kingston. We're doing an expo there next month and you're going."

Emma sputtered as she tried to make sense of the simple statement.

"Next month? Please tell me you mean September and not the month that starts in three days. And why is this the first time I'm hearing about it?"

"I mean next month as in three weeks from this weekend. You haven't heard about it because I just got the confirmation about it this morning. A studio from upstate New York had to back out and we were more than happy to take their place," Regina said flippantly as she shuffled through some papers on her desk. "You'll be taking Jefferson and Sydney with you this time. I've already booked two vans for the equipment and merchandise since it's a lot further than Portland. We don't have a lot of time to get the word out that we'll be there. I'm having Mick put it on the website today and finally making use of that contact list we made at the last expo."

"Again, why is this the first time I'm hearing about it? You really need to work on your communication skills when it comes to making decisions about the studio Regina," Emma groaned as she slumped back in the chair.

"I wasn't sure we were going to get in and what was the point of getting everyone worked up about it until we knew? You know we have to increase our business somehow and the last expo was a huge success. Think of all clients we can pull in from out of state," Regina stated patiently. "I know it's short notice but you'll get another week's vacation out of it. I know you wanted to do something with Henry before school started, maybe you can take him into the city for a few days."

Emma had to admit that the time off with Henry sounded appealing. He had been so upset about not getting to go to Nepal, even after Killian's effort to cheer him up. She had yelled at August for an hour the next day and made him promise not to build up Henry like that again. An adventure in New York City would be the perfect thing to end the summer on a high note.

"Okay, fine, I'll do it. Make sure to have Mick put who's going in a link on the site along with our contact info so we can start booking people. We'll also need him to set up a separate appointment book for it so we don't double book ourselves here or at the expo. I know you have some excellent reason for not going but you're going to break the news to Ruby why she's not," Emma stood up, smiling at the scowl on Regina's face. "Don't worry, she'll only complain about it until the next one."

After Emma got back from her break the rest of Jay's session went smoothly. Ruby had her own client to work on and from the non-stop chatter from her station Emma figured Regina hadn't broken the news about the expo yet. Jay chatted quietly about her travels and her work in habitat conservation while Emma worked on the shading. Before long Emma was cleaning up Jay's side and giving her instructions for how to care for the healing of the tattoo.

"Go ahead and get dressed and I'll meet you up at the desk so we can schedule your next session," Emma said as she started cleaning up.

Jay quickly donned her clothing, wincing as she did and made her way up front. It wasn't long before Ruby stomped into the room seething.

"Am I being punished?"

"For what?" Emma asked, trying to keep from smiling.

"For not dropping the whole Blue Eyes thing? I know I've been a little persistent about it but not letting me go to the expo with you? That's just mean," Ruby sounded upset.

"Hey, it has nothing to do with that," Emma said reassuringly. "Regina just sprung this thing on me today and she's the one who decided who was going. It makes sense that Jefferson gets to go this time since you went to the Portland one. I'd rather go with you, if that's any consolation."

Ruby gave her a small smile, "Yeah, okay, I guess that makes sense. Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"I've already warned Regina that you'll be complaining until the next one, so make sure you live up to my hype," Emma teased. "I'm going to go to Granny's did you want to come with?"

"Not really, no. I eat there enough as it is and besides I brought my own lunch today."

"Did Graham pack it for you? Does he leave a cute little note on a napkin?" Emma was amused to see Ruby start to blush. "Oh my god he does! How sickeningly adorable is that? Does he have a nickname for you too? I bet it's some kind of inside joke that will make me cringe with how sweet it is."

"Whatever. Go get your greasy diner food and when you come back we're going to plan how you're going to ask Blue Eyes out for a drink," Ruby said, avoiding the question.

"Not until you tell me what Graham calls you," Emma said stubbornly, planting her feet on the ground and grabbing the seat of her stool. "Then, maybe, I'll consider thinking about possibly talking to Killian again."

"Ugh, that's better than nothing I guess," Ruby rolled her eyes as her blush climbed back up her cheeks. "He calls me Red."

"That's it? Red? Is it because of the hair because, seriously, that's boring and I take back my terms," Emma said standing up and disposing everything in their proper containers. She heard Ruby mumble something and turned to see that her whole face was bright pink. "Okay, please repeat what you just said because you're so embarrassed right now it has to be good."

"Graham calls me Red because," Ruby groaned and buried her head in her hands, "because he says that only Red Riding Hood was able to stop the wolf and you know he has that thing about wolves and that cover-up I did for him and part of it was my hair…"

"I get it, I get it," Emma said patting Ruby on the shoulder, shocked at how truly embarrassed Ruby was. "It's cute, a little weird but… wait, did he say he loves you?"

Ruby looked at Emma through her fingers her eyes dancing with joy, "Yeah, a couple of weeks ago. We were watching some documentary on Netflix and he just said it and then started rambling about that whole Red Riding Hood thing. He was already calling me Red but I just thought it was, you know, the hair."

"Geeze, you guys make me almost as nauseous as David and Mary Margaret do sometimes, but I'm happy for you Ruby, Grahams a great guy."

Emma meant it sincerely. She'd dated him briefly, a few months after she was hired at Queen's Quills, but he had been looking for something deeper than she had been willing to give. There was a reason she hadn't seriously dated anyone since Henry was born and Graham was just another guy who went away disappointed that she spent more time pushing them away instead of letting them in. They had remained friends, though, and Emma had been the one to encourage Graham to ask out Ruby in the first place.

"Go get your food so we can finally get to the important things, like what you're going to wear when you happen to run into Blue Eyes when you stop by the nursery tomorrow," Ruby's laugh followed Emma out of the room.

After apologizing to Jay for taking so long they worked out when her next session would be. Mick, the quasi-receptionist, IT guy, and hopeful apprentice that Regina had hired, scheduled the appointment and assured Emma that he'd do everything she'd requested leading up to the expo. He was a good guy, a little eager and always happy, but a welcome addition to the studio. Emma double checked that her schedule was free the rest of the day before stepping out into the midday sun and heading to Granny's.

She'd packed a lunch for herself even though she'd known she would end up at Granny's anyways. Something about working on big pieces made her crave grilled cheese and onion rings, no matter what time of day it was. Emma actually knew where the urge came from but she didn't like to dwell on it any more than she liked to dwell on how she got into tattooing. It didn't help that they were both tied to the same painful memories.

Mentally shaking herself Emma stepped into Granny's determined to enjoy her sandwich without dwelling on the past. Glancing around the diner her eyes came to rest on the back of a head that she was surprised to realize she recognized. Killian was sitting in the farthest booth from the door and hadn't turned when her entrance rang the bells hanging off the door handle. He was wearing his work shirt, so she figured he was either on lunch break too or had just gotten off. Either way she made the split second decision to not turn around and go somewhere else to eat but just bite the bullet and say hello.

Unlike after the Portland Expo or the Fourth of July Emma hadn't been trying to avoid Killian. She had seen him driving around town a few times and waved, a big improvement on her social skills. He had sent over a bunch of enormous dahlias earlier in the week and she had drawn an impromptu thank you card that she'd placed under his windshield wiper. Henry had even had a field trip with his summer program to Anton's Harvest Nursery and had come home talking about how Killian had been the one to give them the tour and that Killian told him he was supposed to remind her to put her air plant in water, which she did. She may not have said a single word to him since the party but she hadn't been ignoring him either.

Before she could talk herself out of it she crossed the diner and dropped into the seat across from and watched in satisfaction as he jumped in surprise and nearly spit out his drink as he realized who it was.

"Swan! Give me a bloody heart attack why don't you?" Killian grumbled as he wiped his mouth with a napkin.

"Just figured I'd return the favor of you surprising me whenever you want to say hello," Emma said with a smug smile.

"If I do recall, you've done the same as well," he argued crossing his arms and leaning back.

"Not as often as you have, even when I know you're going to show up," she countered and then thanked the waitress who had brought her a menu. "Um, is it okay for me to sit here? I could get my own table if it's not."

"It would be an honor if you joined me, Swan. Perhaps one day we'll actually meet at a predetermined time and place and not startle the other when we show up," Killian winked and took a sip from his coffee mug.

Emma ignored the bait and pretended to look over the menu. She could feel his gaze on her and fought the urge to squirm in her seat. Finally she gave up the charade, she always ended up ordering the same thing, and set the menu aside, meeting his eyes across the table.

"Lunch break?" She asked, waving her hand at his clothes.

"Just finished actually. I usually grab something from the market but I had a sudden desire for a hamburger and here I am. You?" He tilted his head as he looked at her.

"Lunch break, I just finished a pretty long session and the salad I brought to work didn't seem very appetizing," she shrugged and looked around the diner pointedly.

The waitress chose that moment to come back and take her order. She let Killian know that his order was nearly ready, blushing slightly when he thanked her and called her love. Emma pretended not to notice and ignored the return of the hot poker to her gut.

"Grilled cheese and onion rings? Not quite as nutritious as a salad, love," Killian chuckled.

"But a lot tastier and more likely to tide me over until dinner tonight," Emma countered. "Luckily we finally finished the cake yesterday so we'll finally be back to eating normal foods."

"You've been eating cake for two weeks?" Killian looked aghast and a little disgusted.

"It felt like it but no, we've also been eating leftover hot dogs and potato salad," Emma said playfully.

Killian stared at her for a beat before shaking his head and waving down their waitress.

"I'd also like a side order of steamed vegetables if that's possible and please refrain from drowning them in butter," Killian said as soon as the girl stepped up to their table. He glanced over at Emma, seemingly contemplating his next words. "And a spare plate if you would, Miss Swan here is sorely in need of adding some greenery to her diet."

"Excuse me, I get plenty of 'greenery' in my meals. I brought a salad for lunch today," Emma huffed in annoyance.

"Which you've abandoned for a grilled cheese and onion rings dripping in grease," Killian turned back to the waitress. "We'd appreciate everything to come out together, my burger can rest a bit under the heat lamp."

The waitress nodded and sent a worried look at Emma. She just rolled her eyes and nodded, letting the poor girl off the hook for Killian's idiotic move. Usually it pissed Emma off when someone dictated her life for her, her time in Phoenix notwithstanding, but with Killian it was different. It felt more like he was looking out for her instead of trying to bend her to his will. When she trained her gaze on him, however, he was smiling widely, arms draped casually along the back of the booth.

"I'm a big girl you know…"

"Oh, I know, Swan," he lifted his eyebrows and ran his tongue over his teeth before grinning cheekily. "One of the multitude of things I quite like about you."

His grin turned into a grimace accompanied by a gasp of pain as she kicked him lightly in the shins. Smiling in a way that could only be described as predatory she leaned over the table towards him.

"I'm a big girl and I can eat whatever the hell I want and I definitely don't need someone ordering me around," she said with a venom she definitely didn't feel, watching the mild panic build in his eyes. She let her lips fall into a more natural smile, "But thank you for being worried about my health. You're eating all the cauliflower by the way."

His hands dropped to his sides as he let out a relieved breath. Shaking his head he looked up at her through his lashes and Emma had to remind herself that she was just sharing a table with the guy. It wasn't anything remotely like a date, so she had no reason to acknowledge the butterflies in her stomach or the way her palms had started to feel clammy.

"You know, you never got around to your end of the bargain, love," Killian said thoughtfully, watching her carefully.

"Bargain?" Emma knew exactly what he was talking about but hoped to buy herself some time or even make him forget about it all together. "I've been really good about my little air plant. Well, it hasn't died yet, at least I don't think it has."

"As I said, easier than a cactus but not quite what I was referring to," he gave her a look that told her he knew exactly what she was doing. "I believe we had an accord, a tale from my past for a tale from yours. Take your time and don't be afraid to really dig deep."

Emma knew he was joking but couldn't help that her responding laugh sounded forced and uneasy. She had agreed to tell him about how she got into tattooing at Henry's party. For some it was an almost boring story; Regina did it to piss off her mother and Ruby did it so she could earn extra money along with her job at Granny's. For Emma it was interweaved with the best and worst times of her life.

She had always loved drawing and as she grew up she found that her sketches garnered a lot of attention. The best thing about it was that it was something that she could count as a constant in all the different foster and group homes she was shipped to. There was always a steady supply of paper and crayons or colored pencils, mostly to keep the younger kids occupied but Emma was grateful there was anything at all.

It was what led her to meet Henry's dad, in a way. She was sixteen at the time and had been trying to sell her drawings from a ratty blanket on a street in downtown Portland, Oregon. Winter was on it's way into spring but it was still cold enough at night that she couldn't just tuck herself into a disused doorway without risking hypothermia. The shelters were always an option but her pride was still intact enough to think herself better than that. She had been holding onto the hope that she could have sold enough of her art to put herself up in a crappy motel room for a night or two.

The sky was an inky blue and the streetlights had been on for almost thirty minutes before Emma had finally given up. She had only sold three pieces, hardly enough for a hot meal let alone a night in a real bed. There had been a chill to the air that nipped at the tip of her nose and fingers and caused her ears to burn as she had packed up her unsold drawings in her satchel. As she did her fingers brushed a long piece of metal that she hadn't had the guts to use. Before she could think twice about it she slid it up her coat sleeve and quickly started walking towards an alley that she knew had a beat up old car or two, ones too old to have alarms.

Stealing the old yellow Beetle had been easier than she thought it would be. It helped that she had picked up some tips from some of the other kids in the system. Sometimes she wondered if she got a better education from them than from the joke that was the Boston Public School System. She had started the car with a screwdriver and a few well placed hits from a rock, since her hot-wiring skills were pathetic. Her plan had been to drive the car far enough away to avoid suspicion and park it somewhere unobtrusive for the night, she hadn't thought of what to do past that.

When a heavily tattooed arm made an appearance over her shoulder she nearly had a heart attack and crashed. Turned out the car she had stolen was in fact one that the guy she hadn't noticed in the backseat had stolen first. He was a few years older than her with brown hair and brown eyes that crinkled when he would give her one of his easy smiles. They had spent ten months together and she had been left heartbroken and pregnant.

A foot nudged hers and brought Emma back to the brightly lit diner. She was surprised to see that her food was sitting in front of her and Killian was looking at her with concern in his eyes. Not knowing where to start she grabbed her sandwich, but she no longer felt hungry.

"Milah," Killian murmured quietly.

"What?" Emma asked startled, looking up at him sharply.

He wasn't looking at her but at a spot over her shoulder, opening and closing what remained of his left hand on top of the table.

"You once asked me why I moved to Storybrooke. My wife, Milah, was killed in a car accident and in the aftermath I behaved poorly. Coming here was as much of an escape as it was a way to restart my life.

"I didn't mean to cause you anguish in telling your beginnings as a tattoo artist. I was merely curious and I can see that I've overstepped my bounds."

"Then why did you tell me about Milah?" She was confused.

His eyes found hers and she could see pain and understanding in their depths. He gave her a self deprecating smile.

"I was merely augmenting my previous tale, Swan. It wasn't fair of me to ask you to dig deep without doing the same. However, don't feel as though you need to tell me anything more than you're willing to share. You can even tell me a lie and I'll accept it as truth."

Emma gaped at him in astonishment. She had known he had been keeping some important details out of the stories he had told her and it didn't take looking at his left hand or forearm tattoo to see it. What she hadn't expected was for him to just up and tell her about it with no prompting whatsoever.

Her gaze skittered away from his and, like him, focused on a spot over his shoulder.

"I was sixteen and trying to keep under the radar since I had run away from my last foster home," she saw him nod, as though she confirmed something for him. "I didn't think I'd be sent back, since I had run all the way to Oregon from Boston but there was still a chance I'd be put in a group home until I turned 18. I met a guy and I kinda got lost with him. He did unlicensed tattoos out of a friend's garage and he would sometimes let me try it out. I had always been good at drawing and it was just a different way of doing it.

"We had a lot of fun together and then one day he disappeared. Left me holding evidence from some big robbery he'd committed in Arizona while the cops searched me because of an 'anonymous tip'. So I ended up in prison with nothing but a sketchy set of skills, a stolen car that miraculously stayed mine, and a month pregnant with Henry."

Emma finally looked back at Killian. She had tried to keep the details to a minimum but even the bare bones story was a hard one to tell. Peering across the table at him she expected to see him looking at her in pity or even unchecked curiosity but she saw nothing but understanding. It gave her the courage to keep going.

"I got out a year later with no way to make money and a baby to raise on my own. I did waitressing, bar tending, really anything to put food on the table but it was never enough. It's tough to find a good job as an ex-con. My options were chasing down bail skippers, tattooing, or Baskin-Robbins."

"I can see that 31 flavors was your true calling, love." Killian said grinning, finally digging into his hamburger. "No wonder you abstain from eating anything healthy, you've been brainwashed by the ice cream conglomerate."

"You have no idea how cutthroat the dessert business can be, Jones," she deadpanned, also starting in on her meal. "The rum raisin fringe groups can get violent."

Killian let out a surprise bark of laughter. Emma felt her apprehension and anxiety drain away. She had told him the worst parts of her past and he had just accepted it and moved on. Not even Mary Margaret had been able to keep her questions to herself, forcing Emma to relive one of the darkest parts of her life. Killian, on the other hand, was studiously separating the vegetables onto two plates making sure to keep the cauliflower on only one of them.

"I moved back to Boston and apprenticed at a shop for two years. When I finally got my license and steady hours at the shop it was easier. It wasn't part of a grand plan but I love what I do and I don't really see myself doing anything else," she shrugged and took the plate Killian was holding out to her.

"It appears as though fate had other plans for us than any type of grand plan we may have constructed when we were younger," Killian said softly, giving her a broken grin. He visibly shook himself and his grin turned playful. "Now, Swan, care to share the story about the tattoos on your back that I may have caught a glimpse of on the Fourth?"

She blinked at him as she tried to remember what she had worn and consequently how much of her tattoo he might have seen. He must not have seen much if he was asking and she wasn't about to casually give him an answer.

"Nice try, Blue Eyes, but as you said we have an accord. A tale from you begets a tale from me," she glanced down at her watch, startled to realize she'd been there for almost an hour. "Ah, shit, I've got to get back to work."

"You haven't even finished your sandwich, surely Regina can spare you for fifteen more minutes," Killian implored.

Emma called over their waitress and asked for the check and a to go box.

"Not likely. Ruby still needs to take her lunch and I'm on walk-in duty for the rest of the afternoon," Emma said ruefully as she dug through her pockets for her cash. "I'll just eat the rest of it at the shop."

When the waitress came back Killian grabbed Emma's bill before she could protest. He rolled his eyes at her huff of indignation.

"Let me get this, Swan. Call it a thank you for keeping me from overanalyzing what exactly goes into Granny's cooking and for actually eating your vegetables."

Emma blushed as she realized that the plate she had taken from him was the only one that was empty. Without a word she dumped the rest of her onion rings and the second half of her sandwich into the box. She also placed a few bills on the table, waiting for him to fight her on it.

"Good form, I hear it's always better to tip with cash. Although, personally, I'd prefer something a bit more personal," he winked at her.

"Then I guess it's a good thing you've found your calling at Anton's instead of Granny's," Emma teased as she stood to leave. "Thank you, for lunch and… yeah."

"Of course, Swan, it was my pleasure," he said genuinely as he looked up at her.

"Okay, I should get back. Bye."

"Until we bump into each other again, love."

Emma started walking toward the door before she quickly turned around and marched back to the table. He looked up at her confused and then back at the booth, as though he was checking that she was back for something she forgot.

"About what you said earlier," she said nervously, shifting from foot to foot.

"You'll need to enlighten me, Swan. We've discussed a fair amount of topics today," Killian said pleased.

"About meeting at a predetermined time and place."

"Yes, well perhaps I'll make an appointment at your shop…"

"Or you could just meet me at the Rabbit Hole for a drink on Saturday."

Emma was gratified to see his composure slip as he gawked at her. She wanted to gloat, maybe even tease him a bit but she really did need to return to work.

"I'll be there around 8:30. Will you?" She asked, tilting her head as she waited for his answer.

"Um, yeah," he answered a little breathlessly. "Yes, I'll be there."

"Good, see you then."

Emma turned to leave but not before she saw the dazzling grin that lit up Killian's face. As she stepped out of the diner she realized that she was grinning too. She couldn't wait to see the look on Ruby's face when Emma told her she needed help picking an outfit for Saturday.

* * *

 **A.N.: Oh, man, I really hadn't meant for this to be such a beast of a chapter but "no ragrets". The end justifies the means in this case and I also have no shame mining the Disney vault for more characters. Tune in next week when our heroes meet up for that drink!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Yep, it's another long chapter but with all the praise for the length of the last one this one might be appreciated as well.**

 **The characters still belong to Kitsis and Horowitz but it's time to really let them play.**

* * *

Killian was trying to decide what he hated more, the weather or the fact that he thought things would run smoothly for once. He cursed the fact that the temperatures and humidity had decided to rise the day he was set to meet Emma at the Rabbit Hole. When he had stepped out on the balcony that morning before work it had already been in the low eighties and the mercury had still been climbing. It had been torture working at the nursery, mostly because he had spent a majority of his shift out among the fruit trees in the oppressive heat.

He was lying spread eagle on his bed, contemplating taking another shower, if only to stand beneath the cold water for twenty minutes. The apartment had central air but he and Will had an agreement not to run it when only one person was home. Killian tried to remind himself that the electricity bill wouldn't be worth him turning it on anyway and that the two fans he had running in his room were enough. It wasn't helping.

His thoughts turned to idle imaginings about how the evening would go. The Rabbit Hole was well known to him, along with the type of people that flocked there on a regular basis. He had been one of them when he first moved to town. The type of person who went there daily to drown their sorrows, to find a temporary respite from the painful lives they lead, whether it be through a bottle or by other, more physical, means. With his luck every single one night stand he'd had would be sitting at the bar when he walked in. There weren't many but there were enough to make him worry about it.

Killian had no grand illusions about where the night might go. He knew instinctively that it wasn't a date, at least not the kind where hearts and flowers were involved. Emma would have told him upfront that it was, he understood that much about her and that in itself made his anticipation for it easier to bear. What was puzzling him was what she intended by having drinks with him.

He had never really properly dated anyone. In school he'd merely spent time with a girl until they ended up behind the shed that housed the football equipment and said yes when classmates asked if they were together. During his time with the Royal Fleet Auxiliary he had been too focused on his career to settle on one woman and after he got out he was too lost in grief to care. Then Milah came tumbling into his bed with her easy smile and her love of life and it just was.

Throwing an arm sticky with sweat over his eyes he tried not to dwell on the fact that he was even considering the idea of going on a date with Emma. He had been adamant with both Will and Robin that he wasn't ready to date, especially after he had gone to Henry's birthday party. They had just rolled their eyes at him and continued to rib him about it. As a result he hadn't even mentioned having lunch with Emma or the fact that he was meeting her for a drink that night to Will.

Grimacing at the feel of his overheated skin he pulled his arm back off his face just as he heard the front door slam. Before he could do more than lift his head Will was standing in his doorway, twin beads of sweat coursing down his face.

"If I turn on the air will you put some fuckin' clothes on?" he asked irritated.

Killian propped himself up on his elbows glancing down at his bare chest and boxer briefs, "It's about time you got home mate, any longer and you'd be seeing a lot more of my goods."

"Trust me, it's not that good. Barely worth noting," Will sneered as he stepped sideways. Killian could hear him fiddling with the thermostat and rejoiced silently when he heard the air conditioner start up outside. "I've had swamp ass all day and you didn't even have the decency to make the apartment habitable before I got off? What good are you for anyway?"

"Oy, I don't need to know anything about your ass and you were the one who said we shouldn't run the air. You don't get to monopolize being miserable, asshole," Killian grumbled half heartedly as he let himself fall back on his bed, waiting for the cool air to waft over him.

"Fuck off," Will said without heat. "I'm gonna take a shower and then we'll go down to the pub for a pint. Maybe we can convince Abe to find a replay of the Liverpool match somewhere."

Will had shut the door to the bathroom before Killian could beg off. He had planned on making some excuse about needing something from the market or something equally frivolous. Anything that wouldn't have Will questioning where he was going on a Saturday night, or worse, inviting himself along.

The sound of running water and the feel of the blessedly cool air flowing through the apartment spurred Killian to finally risk moving without fear of breaking into an immediate sweat. He dismissed the idea of putting on more clothes, not when he planned on taking that second shower once Will got out. There was still an hour to go before he was due to meet Emma at the Rabbit Hole and he figured some food and a beer were in order.

By the time Will joined him in the kitchen he'd already eaten two pieces of cold leftover pizza and was halfway through his third. His beer count wasn't too far behind.

"Good idea, mate, gettin' a few beers in before headin' out. I think Abe's still trying to get through those kegs of piss he insists is quality ale," Will said jovially as he slung his shirt onto the kitchen table. "Any of that pizza left? I don't think I'll be riskin' the bar nuts tonight."

"Why is it you keep going back to Hog's Head if all you do is complain about it?" Killian asked bemused as he slid the pizza box across the counter towards Will.

"Because there's a unique charm to the place that reminds me of home, plus it's the only other bar in town and I don't always feel like slummin' it down at the Rabbit Hole."

At Will's statement Killian had to fight to keep a mask of indifference up, "There's always Granny's or Tony's."

"I haven't quite gotten into the good graces of Granny herself, unlike you, and it's Saturday." Will explained around a mouthful of pizza.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that half of Storybrooke will be at Tony's with their sweethearts for 'date night'. At least at Hog's Head we won't be fighting for service with lovesick fools."

Killian felt a prickly heat crawling up the back of his neck. With each word out of Will's mouth he felt himself falling deeper into a hole he wouldn't be able to crawl out of gracefully. To buy himself time he took another long pull from his beer.

"I know you're proud of your physique but I'm not goin' down to the pub with you wearin' just that," Will pointed out as he opened the door to the fridge.

"Jealousy doesn't suit you, Scarlet," Killian quipped setting his empty bottle on the counter. "I'm going to take another shower so what's the point of getting dressed?"

"Another shower? Abe isn't worth it and you'll be payin' the water bill this month," Will griped as he opened his own bottle of beer. "Unless of course there's something you're not tellin' me. Like going on a date with the fair Lady Swan tonight?"

"How?" Killian spluttered as he tried to come up with an answer but stopped his efforts at the smug look on Will's face.

"Oh, come on, mate," Will laughed as he rolled his eyes. "You know perfectly well that half this town knows your business and the other half knows hers."

Killian stared slack-jawed at him trying to comprehend how his quiet life suddenly became the storyline everyone in town was interested in. Will seemed to take pity on him and handed him the beer he had just opened. As he delved back into the fridge for another one he explained.

"Emma must have said something to Ruby because Ruby was talkin' to Graham about it at Granny's last night on his lunch break. John and Alan were there grabbin' a pint and heard your name being bandied about so they naturally listened in."

"Naturally," Killian said weakly.

"Anyway, the gents felt it was only right to let me know, seeing as how I had a bet going with Robin about how soon you'd finally grow a pair and ask her out. You were startin' to worry me, mate, I only had a week left before Robin won."

"It's not a date," Killian muttered as he tried to wrap his head around the information.

"What d'ya mean?"

He focused his gaze on a puzzled Will, "I mean we're just meeting up for a drink with no expectations. I wasn't even the one to propose the outing."

"You can't propose, I haven't got enough takers for that one yet!" Will teased with a wink. "And don't go tellin' Robin you didn't do the askin' or he'll say no one wins on a technicality or some other wash."

"Not in the mood, Scarlet," Killian snapped, downing half the beer Will had handed him. "I'm getting in the shower and leaving this conversation."

"Be sure to scrub your naughty bits thoroughly, mate, wanna make a good impression!" Will's loud laugh followed Killian down the hall and only cut off when Killian slammed the door to the bathroom shut.

He took a short shower, just long enough to rinse off the sweat and tamp down his frustration with the idiots he considered his friends. A freshly opened beer was waiting on the floor in front of the bathroom door when he emerged and he shook his head, knowing an apology when he saw one.

It took a considerable longer amount of time for Killian to figure out what he was going to wear. He didn't want to show up at the bar wearing a tshirt and shorts only to find that Emma had dressed up for the occasion. On the other hand he didn't want to end up at the opposite end of the spectrum and wildly overdress. In the end he settled on a black t-shirt with a dark maroon button up left open over it, rolling up the long sleeves to his elbows, and a pair of jeans, despite the heat. He figured the Rabbit Hole had air conditioning and he'd only be a victim to the high temperature for the amount of time it took to walk from his truck to the door.

"Well, don't you clean up nice," Will piped up from behind him, once again standing in the doorway. "No flowers? You've been plying the girl with 'em for weeks and now you're showin' up empty handed. I believe you'd call that 'bad form'."

Killian wondered why he thought Will would have dropped the topic. Will's lack of a social life outside of him and the guys down at Locksley's tended to get him in trouble, especially when he began to fixate on things. Luckily Graham had only needed to throw him in the drunk tank once, along with a ban from the library for an indeterminate amount of time. It seemed Will had decided that Killian's own lack of a love life was a problem that needed fixing.

"Like I said, not a date so flowers aren't necessary," Killian pushed past Will, nearly empty bottle in hand, heading towards the kitchen.

"Right, mate, keep tellin' yourself that," Will teased. "You about ready to go? Time's a wastin'."

Will's question caused Killian to stop dead at the threshold to the kitchen causing Will to walk straight into him. He turned around and glared at Will, praying that he was jumping to conclusions. All it took was a shit-eating grin to break out on Will's face for Killian's suspicions to be confirmed: he was going to have an audience tagging along at the Rabbit Hole.

"No," Killian almost shouted, "absolutely not! That's an invasion of privacy and it's low, even for you."

"Readin' your diary is an invasion of privacy. I'm just goin' down to the Rabbit Hole for a drink and maybe a better ending to my night than what you seem to believe will happen."

"Why is it I don't believe a single word that's coming out of your mouth?" Killian growled, finally entering the kitchen and dumping the dregs of his bottle down the sink.

"Because you're choosin' to see the worst in me. Which I find a tad hurtful, by the way. After all I've done for ya," Will said in jokingly hurt tone.

"I'm on the verge of forgetting all that as I strangle you. Go to Hog's Head or Granny's or even Tony's but for fuck's sake don't be at the Rabbit Hole tonight," Killian groaned.

"Question, mate, how are you planning on getting to there?" Will asked, completely ignoring Killian's plea.

"What? I'm going to drive, it's too fucking hot to walk," Killian answered confused.

"And how many beers have you imbibed this evening?" Will asked pointedly.

Killian rolled his eyes, "Is that why you placed another one outside the bathroom door? I'm not drunk, they're closer to bottles of water than anything else."

"Ah, but I'm sure good Sheriff Graham or perhaps his charming deputy, Nolan, would be more than happy to let you stay the night at the station. You know, now that I think about it the beds aren't half bad in there."

"You've been drinking as well, you ass."

"Ah, but have I?" Will said in a sing song voice, his eyes dancing in merriment. "Check the bin if you're so sure."

Knowing what he would, or more likely wouldn't, find Killian opened the cabinet under the sink where they kept their recycling. The bin was only filled with water bottles and the three bottles of beer he had drank himself, four including the one he had just dumped out.

"That doesn't prove anything, you could have just left the empty bottles in your room."

Will gave Killian a look that somehow combined disappointment and exasperation. He wasn't as much of a stickler for tidiness as Killian was but he was scarily particular about not leaving dishes lying around their apartment. Since Killian had moved in he had yet to see a single plate left dirty for more than an hour, let alone an empty bottle of beer left forgotten anywhere.

"Looks like I'm your ride, Jones. I'll even pretend like I don't know you when we get there, just another nameless face in the crowd," Will grinned, crossing through the kitchen to the hallway leading to the front door. "Let's go, the tide waits for no man."

"For the record, I hate you and I swear I'll get vengeance."

"Ooo, I'm shakin' in terror. After you good sir."

The ride to the Rabbit Hole was blissfully short as far as Killian was concerned. He spent the entire time stewing in a stony silence as Will cheerfully sang off-key to the music from the classic rock station out of Derry. Killian was convinced that his run of bad luck had only begun and he was half tempted to force Will to turn around and forget the whole ordeal altogether. The only thing stopping him was knowing he couldn't do that to Emma. That and the fact that he still, somehow, still didn't have her number.

Walking into the bar Killian felt as though all eyes turned to watch him enter. He knew that it was mostly his imagination or just curious patrons interested in anyone who joined the fray. The interior of the bar was dimly lit with dark stained wood with stained glass windows facing the street. It had a little bit of everything: a jukebox, pool tables, even a fireplace which combined allowed the Rabbit Hole to appeal to people from all walks of life. It was what had drawn Killian to it time and again, despite his less than savory beginnings at the establishment.

Suddenly he became aware that there were actually several pairs of eyes that were still following him as he approached the bar. When he turned fully to investigate he caught them quickly turning back to their friends, pretending to be deeply immersed in conversation. Unluckily the red streaks throughout her hair made Ruby stick out like a sore thumb. Not to mention she was sitting at one of the high tables with August and Mary Margaret.

By the time he got to the bartop he noticed another set of familiar faces watching him from the pool tables at the back. He could see that Will had joined Robin, John and Alan who were studiously bent over a game in progress, avoiding his glare. When Killian spotted Regina down at the opposite end of the bar smirking at him he didn't even blink. It was just another cherry on top of his bad luck sundae.

Killian closed his eyes and counted to ten before turning his back to the bar and facing the room. If everyone was already at the bar there was a good chance Emma was as well. He hadn't noticed her when as he walked to the bar, but that might have been due to the fact that he had kept his eyes dead ahead. Yet a quick scan of the room confirmed that she wasn't there, despite the crowd that was apparently awaiting both their appearances.

"You Killian?" A gruff voice asked from behind him.

"Er, yeah," Killian turned back to face the bartender who was addressing him.

"I was told to give you this," the man pushed a small tumbler of alcohol towards him. "I'd say it's on the house but that'd be a lie."

Before Killian could ask any questions the bartender had his back to him and was helping someone else down the bar.

Shrugging to himself Killian picked up the glass and inspected the liquid inside. It was a warm amber color and he immediately recognized the heady bouquet of a top shelf rum. Pleased by his unknown benefactor's taste he sipped experimentally and was gratified that his nose hadn't lost it's touch, the rum was excellent. As he took another mouthful he noticed that the napkin the glass had been sitting on wasn't the standard white cocktail napkin the bar favored. Or rather, it was, but it had been written on with a black pen. Aware that multiple sets of eyes were on him Killian idly swirled the liquid in his glass as he subtly read what was written.

"We've been discovered. Finish the glass and keep looking around the bar for me. When you're done make a show of taking out your phone and go down the hallway where the bathrooms are. There's an exit back there. I'm at Granny's. See you in fifteen."

Killian had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep the grin from blooming on his face. The writing was nearly illegible and had ripped through the napkin in places. He imagined Emma had written it in haste before anyone else had shown up, probably after receiving a warning from one of her friends who had the decency to keep their curiosity in check.

Thinking about how he really needed to get her number for such emergencies Killian did as Emma instructed. He nursed the drink, to keep the charade up and to keep from arousing suspicions on his haste to finish it. His gaze alternated between sweeping the room continuously and watching the door like a hawk. Thoroughly enjoying himself he let his countenance fall as the minutes ticked by and from the worried glances of his audience he was playing the part of being stood up quite well.

Finally he finished the glass and pulled out his phone, glancing down at it and then quickly around the room before shoving away from the bar and heading towards the bathrooms. He found the door Emma mentioned and after quickly checking over his shoulder for anyone following him he opened it and ducked out into the night.

With the sun having recently set the baking heat had diminished somewhat but it was still warm enough that a light sweat broke out across his brow. Luckily Granny's was only a few blocks from the Rabbit Hole and a light breeze had kicked up while he had been in the bar. Soon enough Killian could see the glow of the string of lights outside of the diner and quickened his step, not quite sure how much of that fifteen minute allotment he had used up.

The bells hadn't stopped ringing before he saw Emma sitting at the booth they had shared lunch at with a half finished mug of beer in front of her. Her hair was twisted up in a complicated braid and she was wearing what appeared to be a sundress, he couldn't be sure until she stood. She was smiling brightly at him and then frowned turning to look pointedly at the clock hanging on the opposite wall.

"I said fifteen minutes," she complained, the corners of her mouth twitching as she fought against a smile. "It's a good thing I'm a patient woman."

"Apologies, Swan, someone had me waiting in a bar where no less than eight pairs of eyes were scrutinizing my every move. I needed to keep up appearances," Killian said, fighting a grin of his own as he sat down opposite her.

Before she could retort a low buzzing reached his ears. Emma's smile bloomed wide as she pulled her phone out and read what she received. Seconds later Killian felt his own phone start vibrating in his pocket. He pulled it out from his pocket and was amused to see a string of messages from Will and a couple from Robin, all in quick succession.

"I've got them from Ruby and Mary Margaret," Emma sounded amused and Killian looked up to see her holding up her phone at him. It buzzed in her hand and she turned it to look at the screen. "And even one from… Regina! Regina was there too?"

"As was Robin and some of the lads from Locksley's. Will heard about it from them who overheard Ruby talking to Graham. How much of a warning did you get?" Killian ignored the continual messages lighting up his phone.

"About five minutes. Mary Margaret text me asking if I was at the bar already and if I could make sure to get a table with plenty of chairs. She seemed to be under the impression that it was a group thing. It did give me enough time to buy you a drink and get the hell out of dodge. You?" Emma's green eyes were bright with mirth and pride colored her tone.

"Probably about ten minutes more than you. My bloody ponce of a cousin decided to exploit my law abiding nature by plying me with beer and then insisting I was unfit to drive myself."

"Oh, so you're drunk already. Here I thought I was being nice buying you an apology drink for leaving you to handle the wolves," Emma teased as she took a drink from her own beer.

"I'm far from being drunk, love. The watered down concoction you Americans call beer pales in comparison to the ales from back home. The rum, however, was very much appreciated," Killian looked at his phone and winced when the latest message from Will had him threatening to tear apart the town looking for him.

"What's the story, Swan? Will is getting rather impatient with my lack of response and it appears as though your friends are as well. Or should I take my leave and we'll try for another time perhaps?"

"If I didn't know any better I'd think you're eager to leave me here to drink alone, Jones."

"Not in the slightest but we're about to be joined by the pack we left behind if we don't come up with a plausible explanation for our absence."

Emma considered him with a brow raised before she bent over her phone and started typing furiously. When she finished she set her phone to the side and signalled the waiter.

"I told Ruby that Henry called and I needed to pick him up. Same for Mary Margaret," she smiled up at the waiter who was waiting patiently. "I'll have another beer and…"

"I'll have the same. Any chance we might also get a glass of the rum from Granny's stash?" Killian tipped a wink at Emma before addressing the waiter who looked apprehensive. "Don't worry lad, who do you think keeps her well stocked in it. If it'll put your mind at ease I can call her and get her blessing."

"You don't need to do that!" The waiter said mildly panicked. Killian felt somewhat bad for exploiting his connection with Granny but he hadn't asked for much from her in the time they'd been doing business together. "Two beers and two glasses of rum."

"Neat, if you please," Killian smiled widely and the waiter nodded before disappearing into the kitchen.

"You're a pirate," Emma said in a voice that sounded as though she had figured out a particularly difficult problem. "That explains so much."

He looked at her and she was studying him closely. He could feel the blood under his cheeks heating up and his right hand found it's way to the spot behind his ear without him noticing.

"Whatever do you mean, Swan?"

"I couldn't figure out how you were able to travel so much and then be content in a tiny nowhere town working at a nursery. You really are a pirate and that's why you went along with it on the Fourth. Plus the whole eyeliner and scar thing just completes the look."

"You've got me all figured out then," Killian said, sitting back and crossing his arms. "Florist by day, pirate by night, keeping the matron of this diner fully stocked in illicit goods while ensuring the denizens of this town have immaculate landscapes to impress their neighbors. I must say, love, it took you long enough to discover the truth."

She looked at him as though she wasn't sure he was telling the truth or just egging her on. He focused on reading Will's text letting him know that Emma had told Ruby that Henry needed her but it was most likely an excuse. Killian took time to craft a message that was equal parts disappointed and accepting, lest Will decide to make good on his earlier plans for a pint at the Hog's Head. He sent a final message stating he was going down to the docks. It was the only place Will knew not to pester him.

"Wait, seriously?" Emma's incredulous voice pulled his attention back to her.

"Only if you want me to be," Killian laughed as she scowled at him. "No, I'm not a pirate. I just play at being one from time to time. I have a friend who owns a rather lucrative rum distillery and we've kept in touch over the years. When I first came to town Granny made a rather excellent batch of rum balls and when I mentioned my friend we came to an agreement. I would keep her well stocked in the best rum and my tab at the diner would cease to exist. I'm not entirely sure who gets the better end of the deal, though."

"The eyeliner and the scar?" She asked curiously.

"A habit I've grown fond of since my youth, no real tale behind that. As for the scar, I cut myself shaving."

"What were you using? A dagger?" Emma leaned forward to inspect the curving scar on his cheek.

"Not quite. When I was younger I wanted to be a man just like my father and I thought that shaving was the key to that. Turns out four year olds shouldn't be handling razors, whether they're called safety or not," Killian ran a hand down his cheek, palm rasping over his stubble. "Don't fret too much, Swan, I like to think it makes me look rather dashing."

Emma sat back and laughed, a gentle chuckle that immediately set Killian at ease. He hadn't known he was still waiting for something else to go wrong until that moment.

The waiter returned with their drinks and quickly skittered away to another table. Killian had a feeling he should have asked for the bottle and spared the poor lad more frazzled nerves in the near future.

"Okay, you're not a pirate but I'm guessing you do have sailing experience, even though you said it didn't work out. I'd say Navy but maybe not something that regimented. Either way it didn't last long for some reason and that's why you've traveled so much."

Killian's good mood evaporated instantly. She was perceptive, almost too much for him to be comfortable with. How she had been able to deduce even that much information from his carefully thought out words shook his faith in his ability to fool people into believing he was alright. That, in some moments, he would gladly rail against the world in his pain.

Milah's death was a fresh wound, one that was slowly but assuredly healing. Liam's on the other hand was one that was continually reopening and festering as the years burned on. His brother had been the one constant thing in his life through their mother's death, their father's abandonment, moving from home to home. They were never separated but it was a constant threat until Liam turned 18 and became Killian's legal guardian.

Killian had idolized his older brother, the sailor who had forged his own path to greatness, and he wanted to make him proud and not regret having to care for his younger brother. He had worked hard and received enough scholarships to attend Harrow for secondary school. Liam had been ecstatic, having attended state school himself, and Killian had to remind himself of that when he was inevitably teased for being the charity case at the school.

After he graduated Killian decided against attending university. It was one of the few times he had fought against Liam's wishes. He had wanted to see the world but couldn't afford to take a gap year to travel. Enlisting in the Royal Navy was an option but Killian hadn't really been taken by that idea. Instead he followed in Liam's footsteps, with only a few complaints from the man, and joined the RFA, a civilian manned fleet but still under the control of the Ministry of Defense.

It was during his time there that he realized that he was meant to be on the water, in one way or another. He didn't even mind the uniform. Over the course of his two years in service he rose quickly through the ranks, eventually ending up on his brother's ship and calling him 'Captain'. They had worked well together, even their superiors took note. It ended when their ship was attacked by pirates off the coast of Africa, Liam was able to save the ship and her crew but not his life.

"Killian, hey, are you okay?" Emma's voice sounded concerned and he felt a light pressure on his left hand.

"Sorry, love, I didn't mean to find myself adrift. Apologies."

Killian looked down at where her hand was resting on his and carefully let his eyes drift up to hers. She was watching him with a small frown turning down her lips and concern etched in her features. He took a deep breath to address her observations but she spoke first.

"It's a swan," Emma smiled gently as he felt his face twist in confusion. "The tattoo on my back is a swan in flight, well part of it is. It's a piece starting with a line of flames on my right hip that spiral into a column of fire that tapers off into feathers from the swan on my left shoulder. Took three months to get the design right and another two to find an artist I felt could pull it off."

"I thought it was a phoenix that rose from the flames," he craned his neck to try to peer over her shoulder to see if he could glimpse the tattoo.

"Well, yeah, but my name isn't Emma Phoenix is it?" she quipped sardonically. "Actually it was Neal's idea. He said that no matter what I would always emerge from the flames stronger than I was before, a swan reborn. One of the few good things I remember about him."

"Neal would be…"

"Henry's father."

They sat in silence, sipping their drinks, as Killian absorbed the information. It was the first time she had voluntarily told him something from her past. He had forgotten that he had even asked her about the tattoo but apparently she hadn't.

"I was in the Royal Fleet Auxiliary. Not quite the Royal Navy but no mere sailor either. It only lasted two years but I did manage to put several hundred miles behind me. The majority of my travels occurred after I left."

He decided to leave out the fact that he had traveled mostly on the money from Liam's life insurance. Money was never an issue but it made him uncomfortable to discuss where it came from.

"Why did you leave?"

Killian took a deep breath. He didn't know the right way to form the words but he knew he was going to tell her, there was no doubt about that.

"My brother was killed. By actual pirates, in fact. Couldn't quite bring myself to sail the seas without him around after that."

He tried to give her a smile, one that belied the hurt in his gut, but he knew it was sad and broken instead.

"Jesus, don't we make a fine pair," Emma huffed out as she sat back in the booth. She watched him closely before nodding to herself and smiling. "I say we get Nervous Ned over there to bring us the bottle and drink to happier things."

Killian smiled, genuinely, and flagged down their waiter once again. After the guy returned with the bottle, continually checking over his shoulder, Killian made sure to slip him a twenty for his trouble and ensure his loyalty for future needs.

"Alright, what are we drinking to? Successfully avoiding our so called friends? Shitty pasts that keep trying to pull us under? Granny's affinity for good rum?" Emma asked as she filled their glasses with a healthy measure of the golden liquid.

"How about we start by drinking to us and go from there," Killian said, raising his glass and tipping it in Emma's direction.

"To us then."

"To us."

The rest of their night was filled with stories that caused more laughter than it did sorrow. Killian was amazed at how free he felt swapping tales about their misspent youth or listening to Emma regale him with stories of Henry's exploits. At one point he grabbed her phone and added himself to the contacts list, a quick selfie included, and messaged his own phone.

"No need to bribe the barkeep any longer," he told her as explanation.

They stayed at Granny's until they were forced out when it closed for the night. The bottle of rum was a distant memory, they had finished it quickly and efficiently. A double order of fries were the only thing keeping him from stumbling out the diner and Emma was faring no better.

"When I said meet me for a drink I didn't mean the whole damn bottle," Emma teased as they stepped onto the sidewalk in front of the diner.

"Perhaps if we had been under the scrutiny of our friends we would have employed some restraint," Killian said as he rocked back on his heels.

The night was clear and, while still not cool, a breeze was still wafting through the streets bringing with it a semblance of respite from the heat.

"Are you going to just stand there or are you going to walk me home?" She was smiling widely at him, hands clasped behind her back.

"Lead the way, Swan," he said, stepping back and gesturing with his arm to the open sidewalk.

"Smooth, I bet you're a gentleman with all the ladies," she called back to him as she started walking briskly down the street, the skirt of her dress swaying around her knees.

"I'm always a gentleman," he retorted as he jogged to catch up. "Whether or not you choose to see it is not my fault."

"A gentleman would have brought flowers."

"I give you flowers all the time. Besides, aren't flowers are more appropriate for official dates?"

"Are you implying that this wasn't a date?"

Killian's steps faltered, he had been sure it was nothing more than drinks. Emma smirked at him.

"Was it?" He tried to keep his voice even and calm.

"Well, there were drinks."

"Many of them."

"We ate some food."

"I hardly count a plate of french fries as date appropriate food."

"You're walking me home."

"Only because you insisted upon it and what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you wander the streets alone in the dark."

Emma turned a corner and came to a stop in front of an unassuming door and then turned to face him.

"It's a good thing we live in Storybrooke and not some big, scary city. Who knows what might have happened if one of our streetlights had gone out," Emma's voice had a teasing lilt to it again.

"You know, Swan, if this was a date this would be the moment where I'd ask if you had a good time," Killian said in an equally teasing tone of voice, deciding to continue playing along.

"If it was I'd maybe say that I did."

"I'd think about asking you out for a second one."

"I might consider saying yes."

"Then I'd wonder about ending the night with a kiss," Killian smirked and tapped his lips lightly with his finger.

"Please," Emma said quietly with a small shake of her head and a tiny quirk of her lips. "You couldn't handle it."

"Perhaps you're the one who couldn't handle it," Killian said taking a small step closer to her.

Her eyes darted between his and he could sense a hesitation in her countenance. Before he could step back or make a flippant comment to dispel any discomfort she was grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him towards her.

Killian hadn't been a monk since Milah died. There had been many women, too many if he was honest, that he had kissed or done even more with after her death. Yet none of them, not a single one, possessed the magic that Emma seemed to have. The spark of something more that ignited the instant her lips touched his.

It wasn't gentle by any means. He could feel Emma fighting him for dominance, nipping at his mouth, trying not to let her thoughts interfere and he was doing the same. His hand came up to gently cup the back of her head and somehow the kiss intensified.

They were both breathing heavily, leaning into each other. He could taste the remnants of rum on her tongue, the salt clinging to the corner of her mouth. Her fingers delved into the hair at the base of his neck and it spurred him on to new heights. Only a small but insistent voice kept him from pinning her against the side of her building.

As quickly as it started it was over, leaving Killian's head buzzing and both of them taking in air as though they had been drowning. His forehead was resting gently on hers as they swayed together, lips nearly colliding again.

"That was…"

"Not part of the plan." Emma said, stepping away from him.

"There was a plan?" Killian asked confused, trying to catch her eye.

"Not really, at least not one I'm going to share with you."

She continued to avoid his stare, hunting through her purse for her keys.

"Emma?" He gently reached out to touch her arm, her shoulder, anything to keep her from pulling away from him. His hand came to a rest on her wrist.

"I had a really nice time, Killian," Emma murmured sliding her keys into the lock, ignoring his touch.

He pulled back his hand but kept his eyes on her.

"Goodnight, Swan."

"Night, Jones."

She disappeared into the darkness of the building before he could call her back out. Killian wasn't sure how long he stood outside her building, trying to piece together exactly where he went wrong and trying even harder to remember where he went right. He was well and truly lost to whatever was building between him and Emma and for the first time, in a long time, he felt the thrill of anticipation of finding a way to be whole again.

Suddenly his phone buzzed in his pocket. Pulling it out he wondered who the hell would be texting him so late at night. When he finally looked at the screen he felt as though his head would split open by the force of his grin.

It was from Emma, only four words long.

 _Next time bring flowers_

Killian spun on his heel and started the walk back to his own apartment wondering how quickly he could get a reservation at Tony's.

* * *

 **A.N.: Oh, man, this chapter was a fun one to write. For more than just that ending. There's a post on my Tumblr of Killian's outfit that happens to have Dean Winchester (aka Jensen Ackles) wearing it. I loved that look so much I couldn't resist imagining Killian in it. Plus I've also reblogged that steamy Neverland kiss, which obviously was the basis for their end of night kiss. Until next week my friends.**


	13. Chapter 13

**The characters belong to Kitsis and Horowitz and I just take them out to play.**

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"Oh, man. Can we stay a little bit longer? I mean, not move here or anything but I don't have to be back at school for a week and there's so much stuff we haven't done yet. We haven't even gone to the Ghostbuster's library!"

It was almost the end of their week long vacation in New York and Emma was ready to get back to Storybrooke. While Henry was eager to stay she had been sleeping in hotel rooms for almost a week and a half and she just wanted to sleep in her own bed. It wasn't that she wasn't having fun, or enjoying the time off from work, but for the first time ever she was homesick and it was a heady feeling.

The tattoo expo in Kingston had been almost as successful as the one in Portland. It was a smaller show but they had been booked from the outset and Sydney had even found time to squeeze in extra appointments throughout the weekend. Almost all of their merchandise had sold as well and she had sent the guys back to the shop with nothing more than their equipment and a large bag filled with only a few unsold sweatshirts.

With the end of the expo came the beginning of her vacation. A family vacation of sorts because David and Mary Margaret had driven down with Henry in tow and met her in New York. They had spent the better part of the week doing all the touristy things that the native city dwellers cringed at. Times Square, the Central Park Zoo, a ferry ride out to Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty, a Broadway show, and even a trip to FAO Schwarz. Henry had complained he was too old for baby toys but quickly changed his tune when he saw the giant floor piano from Big.

David and Mary Margaret had only joined them for a few days. Mary Margaret had to get ready for the first day of school and David was needed back at the station for the last push of visiting tourists. It had been only Henry and herself roaming the city for the last leg of their trip and Emma was infinitely glad for it. Her son was growing up too fast for her liking.

"You want to voluntarily go to a library on your vacation?" Emma placed the back of her hand on Henry's forehead. "Are you feeling okay? This is weird even for you."

"It's not just any old library, Mom. It's the one where they find their first ghost! Can we at least take pictures with the lions outside?"

"Fine, but we're taking the subway. I don't think we need to take any more cab rides for a while."

"Cool, Aunt Mary Margaret isn't here anyways. She won't get us lost this time."

Henry had been having the time of his life on the trip. He had almost filled up the memory card for his camera and Emma had had to buy another one three days into the trip to encourage him to take as many photos as he wanted. It had been the only time she regretted not bringing her laptop on the trip.

Their ride to the library was filled with Henry reciting lines from the movie and wondering if the actors had left behind some kind of secret note for someone to find. As they emerged out into the sunlight Henry practically sprinted to the front of the building. Emma gave up trying to rein him in and just hoped he wasn't bothering anyone with his antics.

"Hurry up, Mom! My arms aren't long enough to get everything in the shot!" Henry yelled at her impatiently

"Cool it, kid, the lions aren't going to get up and walk away on you," Emma said as she ambled up the steps, intent on making him squirm.

"That would be awesome if they did though! Then my what I did over summer vacation story would blow everyone else's out of the water," Henry chattered as he bounced down the steps to hand her his camera. "Not that it won't already, this summer has been super fun."

"Don't forget you're going camping the weekend after next. How you ended up with a three day weekend after your first week of school I'll never know," Emma murmured as she focused the camera on Henry and the stone lion.

"Labor day is a national holiday that falls on the first Monday in September. I think it's kind of cool we get a holiday right after we start," he stated happily as he made faces at her. "Killian said that they don't have Labor Day but something called a Bank Holiday in England."

"Well I'll make sure to remind him that he lives in America now."

"It's still a day off, though," Henry said as he skipped down the steps towards her. "He's still coming camping with us, right?"

"As far as I know. Robin is the one planning the whole thing and he's friends with Killian so I don't see why not," Emma tried to pass off that she wasn't entirely too invested in who was going on the trip. She didn't want to give Henry any kind of ideas that she couldn't monitor while he was away with the boys.

"Cool. Can we go to that museum on the pier tomorrow? I promised him I'd get some pictures from the deck of the big ship they have there."

"It's an aircraft carrier and we'll have to make a day of it if we go and we only have two days left, you know."

"I know but I promised."

Emma looked at Henry, who was standing only two steps above her but was able to look her straight in the eye. She felt a pang as she realized that soon he wouldn't need the extra height to stand eye to eye with her. The pleading look on his face was at odds with the young man she could see starting to emerge from his formerly round cheeks.

"Fine, but I don't want to hear any complaining when we get down there that you want to do something else that's on the other side of the city."

"I won't, Killian said that it's really neat and he was jealous that we were going to see it without him."

Emma was rooted to the spot in surprise. She barely noticed when Henry pulled his camera back out of her hands and started taking multiple shots of the facade of the library.

It had been a few weeks since her non-date with Killian. The whole thing had been a rollercoaster since the moment she mentioned to Ruby that she needed outfit advice. Emma had had to shoot down at least six of Ruby's inappropriate outfits before the woman had pulled a periwinkle sundress out from the dark recesses of her closet. Emma immediately knew it was perfect the moment she saw it, even with Ruby swearing up and down she didn't remember buying it.

The day of the un-date had consisted mostly of her lounging in the Nolan's pool with Henry and David while Mary Margaret was busy at the school. Henry had been asked to stay at a friend's house that night, which was why Emma had asked Killian to meet her for drinks in the first place. It wasn't often that her son wasn't with her or her close friends and she wanted to make the most of the freedom, which turned out to be her downfall.

Since none of her friends were on Henry duty it left them free to spy on her quasi-date with Killian. Luckily for her Mary Margaret had tipped her off with just enough time to pay off the bartender to get her hastily written note to Killian and sneak out the back before anyone she knew showed up. Her entire walk to Granny's was spent trying to both calm her nerves and curse the fact that she still didn't have any way of contacting Killian apart from calling Anton's.

When he finally showed up she had already downed a beer and a half to keep herself from fidgeting while she waited. She hadn't been prepared for the sight he presented when he stepped through the door. His dark hair, which she had thought was straight black, had strangely seemed to pick up dark brown highlights in the usually unforgiving glow of Granny's florescent lights. It had flopped gently across his forehead, not swept back and held in place by any of the product he usually used. Not that she had taken note of things like that. He had been wearing jeans and a maroon shirt with the sleeves rolled up, an interesting choice considering it had been almost unbearably hot that day but Emma wasn't complaining. Killian looked good in shades of red.

She thought she might have been in trouble when he ordered the rum. She had known she was when she told him about her tattoo and its origin. Not even Mary Margaret knew the full story. All Emma had told her was the meaning behind it, not the full story of the man who had done the rough sketch for the design on her bare back with a ballpoint pen in a motel room they had snuck into for the night. Mary Margaret knew enough about the guy to not care about the small details. Emma wished she could do the same.

Killian, she learned that night, was far more than the flirtatious and cocksure persona she had first encountered at the Portland Expo. Every time she had a conversation that lasted longer than a minute with the guy another facet of his true self was revealed. It was almost as though she had thought she was unearthing a piece of quartz, pretty but not worth much in the long run, and discovering it was a ridiculously well disguised diamond.

Emma hadn't meant to get as drunk as she had but the rum had been good and the conversation had been better. He was funny, something she wouldn't have picked up on if she hadn't been paying attention. His wit was a dry one, laced with innuendoes at times but she had come to realize that he didn't use them to try and get in her pants. That's not to say he didn't want to, she had caught him staring at her once or twice, but it was like he knew his tricks wouldn't work on her and he was right. Partially.

Her downfall had been a moment so innocuous that she had had trouble pinpointing it down later that night. They had been laughing over some story she'd told about Henry, she couldn't even pretend to remember what she had shared, when he randomly grabbed her phone. Before she could blink he had snapped a selfie and added himself to her contacts, telling her that she could keep her bribes to herself. That was the moment she knew she had been lying to herself, it was totally a date.

Emma had intended to walk home alone, let the light breeze blow some sense back into her head but her mouth spoke before her brain could catch up. Killian had walked her home and, to her surprise, had been a complete gentleman about it. He hadn't tried to grab her hand or drape his arm over her shoulders or even the not so subtle hand above her ass to guide her, which spoke more about the few men she had gone out with more than it did Killian's character.

They had made it to her door without incident, their light banter made the walk go by much faster than she had wanted it to. Killian had been teasing her, making comments about what he would have done if he had known it was a date. She had teased right back but she wanted him to make good on his promises, to seriously ask her if she enjoyed herself, to ask her out for a second date, and to stop asking questions and just kiss her already.

He had had such a serious look in his eyes when he had stepped into her space, despite the easy grin on his lips. It was that look, the trepidation she saw there, that spurred her into action. She had been purely seeking the physical contact, the release she craved since she had first laid eyes on his absurdly handsome face.

Emma hadn't been disappointed, far from it. Her last rational thought had been wondering if she was the one who possibly couldn't handle it and then her thoughts had blown away into the night when his hand had cradled the back of her head.

She hadn't been kissed that well or that thoroughly in what felt like forever. Emma didn't want to dwell on the fact that she may have never been kissed like that, ever. When they had finally broke apart her mind flew into overdrive and she'd had to escape. Something she'd had locked away had broken free and she had needed to do what she'd always done best, run. Not far, they were already at her apartment but emotionally she'd pulled back all the way to the Himalayas.

After the door to her building closed behind her she had sat on the stairs in the dark trying to will away the feel of his lips on hers, which tingled only slightly more than the last touch of his hand on her wrist. She'd felt horrible, she had treated Killian horribly, and she didn't know what the hell was wrong with her. He had done nothing wrong, absolutely nothing, and she had treated him like he was every other man who had tried to get to know her. And that was the problem, he already knew her, more than anyone had a right to know and she was the one choosing not to trust him.

So Emma had pulled out her phone, still sitting alone in the dark and sent Killian a text. It had been a simple message, not very long, but full of promise. She was surprised when she heard a light chuckle outside the door and the clicking of bootheels as he walked away. The pressure on her chest disappeared when she had heard it and that feeling was what she had held on to.

They hadn't gone on that second date, yet. The sudden obligation of the Kingston Expo had her working later hours and even a few weekend days. She'd also been roped into helping Mary Margaret set up her classroom for the new school year and with Henry's summer program over her free time had dropped down to nothing.

Killian took it in stride, knowing without her telling him that she wasn't pushing him away. He still sent her regular bouquet order but he had taken to leaving random flowers on her car, or slid into her mailbox, and once sitting on the table of the booth she had secretly started calling theirs when her and Henry had shown up for their usual Sunday breakfast. Ruby hadn't stopped pestering her for information when she had seen the bloom sitting in her glass of water.

In fact most of her so called friends, the ones who had gate crashed the Rabbit Hole, had been not so subtly digging for information. As far as they knew she had bailed on Killian, which made her look like an asshole and it hadn't helped when Henry had gone on at length about how much fun he'd had at his sleepover. Emma had only told Mary Margaret what had really happened when she couldn't stop randomly smiling to herself and Mary Margaret wouldn't stop pointing it out.

Emma found herself smiling more often than not. While they hadn't been on an official second date she had met up with Killian at Granny's for lunch on more than one occasion. Killian would send her a picture of the time clock at the nursery and ten minutes later she would walk into Granny's to find him sitting in their booth chatting with either Granny herself or the poor waiter Killian had manipulated. Some days it was a quick meal, a shared lunch hour on a busy day, on others it was something languid and relaxed, time spent becoming comfortable in each other's lives.

They had met for a final lunch before she went out of town. He had sent the picture and she had shown up with Henry at her side. She had been reluctant to bring him along but she had been leaving the next day and wanted to spend as much time with him before then. There was also the fact that her and Killian were becoming something _more_ and her son would inevitably be a part of that. Henry was already texting him more than she was, the lunch was just another small step. Killian hadn't even batted an eye and immediately asked Henry whether or not Robin had decided on where they would be camping. Emma would have been lying if she said she hadn't felt a little left out of the boys' lunchtime conversation about camping and going on adventures.

When they were leaving the diner Killian had stopped her by gently grabbing her wrist. He had lightly rubbed his thumb over her buttercup tattoo and wished her luck for the expo. She had wanted to kiss him in that moment, right there in the middle of the diner during the lunch rush. Instead she had slipped her hand into his and told him thanks with a quick squeeze of her fingers.

"Mom, you're doing it again," Henry said in a bored voice.

"Doing what?" Emma fought against the blood rushing towards her face.

"That goofy smile that Aunt Mary Margaret kept asking you about."

"I don't have a goofy smile," she pouted, trying to school her expression into one that didn't make her look like a grinning fool.

"Yeah, you do. It's the same one Ruby gets when she starts talking about Graham," Henry looked at her carefully. "You're not thinking about Graham are you?"

"Absolutely not! Geeze, kid, do you really think I'm interested in Graham?" Emma said, a little put out.

"Not now but it's still the same look. Must be a different guy," he winked at her and Emma's jaw dropped open in shock. "I'm going inside now, maybe they'll let me go in the basement part."

Before Emma could so much as take a breath he was running up the steps, leaving her behind. She loved her son, she really did, but sometimes he was a pain in her ass.

Shaking her head she slowly followed Henry up the stairs to the entrance of the library. Distracted by what what he might have figured out on his own and what Ruby had been telling him behind her back Emma didn't notice the man walking down the steps until she was colliding into him head on.

"Ah, I'm so sorry. I wasn't paying attention," she apologized quickly as she dropped down a few steps from the force of the impact.

"Nah, my fault too. I was paying even less attention."

Emma looked up at the man, a smile on her face, ready to apologize once more and continue up the steps. Her smile faltered then disappeared altogether when she recognized the man staring down at her. He had flecks of grey sprinkled throughout his hair and he was stockier than she remembered but his grin and brown eyes dancing in mirth were still the same.

"Neal?" Emma breathed out.

"Emma?" Neal sounded as though he was genuinely happy to see her. "What are you doing here?"

She couldn't process what was happening. Neal was talking to her like they hadn't seen each other in a week not in over twelve years. He was smiling at her, hands in the pockets of his jeans, a few more tattoos on his arms and neck, and he looked good. Which pissed her off, he had no right to stand there looking no worse for wear when he deserved to be a broken man.

"It's a free country I can go wherever I want."

Emma moved to walk around him but he stepped in front of her, impeding her progress.

"Don't be like that. It's been a long time, we should grab a drink."

"Grab a drink?" Emma was incredulous. She had to remind herself she was in public to keep from yelling her head off. "I'm not drinking with you. I have to go."

She made it up three steps before he called after her.

"Emma, stop! Look I know we didn't leave things that great before but we should talk."

"Talk?" She spun around and stalked back down the steps. "What's there to talk about, Neal? How you disappeared? How I had to take the fall for those fucking watches? How I was shipped to a prison in Arizona and the one person I thought I could count on was just another asshole in a parade of assholes? I have nothing to say to you."

"Emma."

"I loved you and you sent me to jail!" Emma was horrified by the shaking in her voice and the tears that were gathering in her eyes.

She had spent years figuring out what she was going to say to him if she ever had the misfortune of running into him again. Seeing him, physically being near him, had caused it all to disappear and that pissed her off. The fact that she couldn't get a grip on her emotions pissed her off even more.

"I was trying to help you," he ducked his head, a look of remorse finally coloring his features.

"With a prison sentence? That's fucked up, even for you Neal."

"You didn't deserve to live the way we were. Running cons, stealing, always looking over our shoulders. You were young and it was your first offence, they would have been easier on you alone than if we had both been caught."

Emma tried to follow his twisted logic. He stood there in front of her, fully believing that he had protected and done right by her. She felt nauseous at that thought.

"Let me get this straight. You thought that by sending me to prison and saddling me with a record that follows me to this day you were doing me a favor? Guess what, you didn't."

"I didn't say it was a smart plan but it worked out didn't it? Can you honestly tell me that nothing good came out of us being together?"

Her thoughts immediately jumped to Henry. Her smart, vivacious son that had made her life so much more than she thought she deserved. The one thing she was the proudest and most protective of, who was bound to go looking for her soon.

"No, not that I can think of," she spoke in a tone of finality, desperate to finally leave the conversation. "I just went to jail, that's it. Doesn't matter now I'm over it."

It was five steps before his voice floated up to her.

"You got the tattoo."

She hesitated, wishing it was winter and she was wrapped in so many layers he wouldn't have seen the swan on her shoulder. He had to have immediately known what it was, they had spent three months sketching out various designs and she hadn't changed a thing when she had finally got it done.

Emma turned around and said unflinchingly, "I got it to remind me not to stay broken when I've been kicked to the ground."

Neal looked as though he didn't believe her but she was beyond caring. She wanted to get the hell out of there before Henry came back and things got messy. Without so much as a goodbye she climbed back up the steps and made it to through the doors before a familiar, but welcome, voice called out to her.

"Mom, what's taking so long? The inside is almost better than the outside!"

Emma winced internally but put on a smile as she walked up to him. She couldn't be sure that Neal was still around and she didn't want to take the chance that he was.

"Come on, kid, it's time to go."

"What? Why, we just got here!"

"I know and I'm sorry but I'm not feeling good." It wasn't a lie she could feel the beginnings of a headache forming at the base of her skull. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"Okay," Henry said sullenly, letting her steer him out the doors and back down the steps. "Can we get pizza again tonight? I'm still not convinced that we've found the best in New York yet."

Emma let out a tight laugh, scanning the crowds as they walked past. Neal was nowhere in sight.

Their ride back to the hotel was quiet. Emma had chosen to take a taxi, lessen the chances that they'd run into her ex. She knew Henry could tell that something was off but kept his questions to himself. When they reached the hotel he gamely returned to the room with her and used her phone to try and choose a worthy pizza joint.

For her part Emma tried to not dwell on what had happened. Unfortunately her thoughts turned instead to the last time she had seen Neal. When she had been younger, more naive, and a hell of a lot more trusting.

They had just been kicked out from squatting at yet another acquaintance's house. It had been the beginning of December and they had no choice but either leave Portland for somewhere with a more temperate climate or come up with a sizeable chunk of money to keep them off the streets. After agreeing to canvass the city for prospects they had split up, promising to meet at a park later.

Emma had arrived first and Neal had shown up minutes later, his head hanging low and shoulders bowed by an unseen burden. That was when he had told her about the watches. He had lifted them from a store in Phoenix but hadn't had the chance to fence them. They were sitting in a locker in a bus station waiting for him to get them. During his scoping of the city he had come across a wanted poster with his face on it, along with a picture of the stolen watches.

He had tried to convince her that it was best for him to turn tail and run for the border. She had tried to convince him that she would go with. Then she'd had the brilliant idea of getting the watches herself. Her face wasn't plastered on wanted posters and she'd always been good at faking her way through a tough situation. He'd agreed, she used to think with some reluctance but over time she had begun to rethink that.

The truly last time she'd laid eyes on him was when he was walking away from her to meet up with the guy who would fence the watches for them. Neal had given her one of the watches, she wasn't so sure now if it was part of his twisted plan from the start. He had left her with the promise of a home and two hours later the promise was broken, and so was she, when the cuffs closed around her wrists.

"The pizza's on it's way," Henry chirped from next to her head.

Emma had lain down on the bed the moment they had gotten back to the room and thrown a pillow over her face to keep Henry from seeing the maelstrom of emotions play across her face. When she removed the pillow she was slightly surprised to see that the sun was setting and it was getting harder to make out the details of their hotel room.

"You couldn't turn on a light or something?" She grumbled as she sat up and flicked on the lamp that was bolted to the nightstand.

"No. I thought you wanted it to stay dark because of the pillow," he said as he sat down next to her on the bed.

"Nah, the pillow was to make sure I didn't spoil the surprise of where our pizza is coming from," she teased lightly, nudging him with her shoulder. "Sorry about earlier."

"Eh, it's okay. You did look like you'd seen a ghost," Henry suddenly looked at her in awe. "Did you see a ghost? You have to tell me if you did!"

Emma laughed, finally feeling things settling back to normal.

"No I didn't see a ghost. I think the week's just caught up with me. I'll be right as rain for tomorrow."

"Good. Can I order a movie?"

"Sure, you know the rules."

"Nothing rated 'R' and if you tell me to turn it off I turn it off…"

"No cuts, no buts, no coconuts," they said it together, Henry grinning widely and Emma doing the same.

"I'm going to go call Mary Margaret, you gonna be okay for a bit?" She asked grabbing her phone from the end of the bed.

"Nope, by the time you get back I'll have flooded the room and taking candy from strangers," he answered paying more attention to the menu on the tv than to her.

"Make sure it's king sized, none of that fun sized garbage," Emma pocketed her key, "There's cash in my wallet for the pizza, which you _can_ take from a stranger. Don't tip the guy too much, we still have to get around tomorrow."

"'Kay."

Emma stepped into the hallway and paused after hearing the door click shut behind her. She didn't want to stray far from the room but she needed somewhere private to make her call. The chair at the end of the hall was an option but it wasn't guaranteed that she would be alone for long. Suddenly her eye caught the exit sign over a door and realized it opened to a stairwell. One that no one in their right mind would think to use from the tenth floor.

After placing her tennis shoe in between the heavy metal door and the doorjamb, not wanting to get locked in the stairwell, she climbed to the landing between the tenth and eleventh floors. Sitting down she stared ruefully at her socked foot before taking a deep breath and calling Mary Margaret.

"Hey, Emma, what's up?"

"He's here," she blurted out without preamble.

"Who's there? What's going on? Is Henry alright?" Mary Margaret's voice rose in panic and it oddly calmed Emma down enough to talk somewhat calmly.

"Henry's fine, he's watching a movie in the room."

"In the room? I thought you were going to surprise him by taking him to a Yankee's game tonight," Emma heard the scrape of a chair followed shortly by the sound of a door opening and then closing. "I'm in the backyard. David's watching the game hoping to get a glimpse of you two and you know how much he hates the Yankee's. So why are you in your room and not at the stadium?"

"I'm not actually in the room," Emma winced hoping Mary Margaret couldn't hear the echoing of the stairwell.

"What? Why? Emma what the hell is going on?"

"You just said 'hell'," she was stalling and she knew it.

"Emma Swan, if you don't tell me what's wrong I'm going to say something a lot worse than 'hell'. Now spill," Mary Margaret commanded in her no-nonsense teaching voice.

"Neal, he's here. In New York," Emma whispered it into the phone, somehow afraid that by saying it any louder he would suddenly appear next to her.

"Neal? As in Henry's father? That Neal?" Mary Margaret was whispering as well.

"No, Neil Diamond," Emma felt a bubble of hysterical laughter rise in her chest. "Yes, Henry's dad, that Neal."

"Emma," Mary Margaret breathed out her name. "Was Henry there?"

"No, we were at the library. He had gone in without me. God, I don't know what I would have done if he was there. Henry was coming back out to find me but Neal was gone already. I had to leave, I couldn't stay. I feel so bad, we were having a good time and he had to ruin it," Emma was almost unable to stop herself from babbling on and on into nonsense.

"Wait, how in the world did you run into him at a library in one of the busiest cities in the world?"

"I know, I know, and the millions of questions you have I have too but the problem is it doesn't matter right now because I don't know what to do," Emma could feel herself hyperventilating.

"Please tell me you're not calling to ask me to help you figure out how to keep this from Henry," Mary Margaret was pleading with her.

"Just for now, just for right now. I don't want to ruin the end of our vacation with this and he's starting junior high, he doesn't need this dumped on him."

"No matter what Neal did to you Henry has a right to know that he's around, even if it comes to nothing. The truth about his dad, Emma you of all people should know how important that is," Mary Margaret implored her.

"I don't want Henry to get hurt," Emma's voice cracked and wavered as she pulled her knees into her chest. She pulled in a shaky breath, "I just want to protect him."

"Are you sure this is about protecting Henry," Mary Margaret's voice said soothingly through the phone, "and not yourself?"

Emma closed her eyes and dropped her head back onto the wall behind her. She barely heard Mary Margaret telling her that everything would be okay before saying goodbye and Emma's mumbled response was lost in the ether. The tears that had threatened all afternoon were back but she refused to let them fall. It would tip Henry off that something was seriously wrong if she went back to the room with bloodshot, puffy eyes.

After a several minutes of taking deep breaths Emma stood up, ready to head back. She unlocked her phone and opened her contacts list. She didn't have to scroll far, Killian had entered himself in her phone as 'Blue Eyes' securing his place at the top of her contacts. Her thumb hovered over the ridiculous selfie he'd taken the night of their one and only date. Instead of touching down on his name she hit the home button.

On her way back to the room, shoe back on her foot, she wondered if the mini bar prices were as ridiculous as she was led to believe. As she slid her key card into the reader she realized she didn't really care. She would need something extra to help her sleep through the night.

* * *

 **A.N.: Man, having to watch the Neal/Emma reunion bar scene and the Emma/Mary Margaret phone call from Manhattan over and over again broke my heart that much more for what Emma's been through. I may have to watch the season 3 finale to bring my spirits back up.**

 **In other news I have the next six chapters outlined (and that's still a ways away from the end) and it's going to be a wild ride for our lad and lady. Stay tuned next week for a boy's trip and perhaps a little Captain Cobra...**


	14. Chapter 14

**Kitsis and Horowitz still hold the rights to the characters but that won't stop me from bringing them out to play.**

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"Uncle David can we make s'mores tonight? Mom made sure to pack the good chocolate and not that stuff you got from that weird hippie store in New York."

Killian stifled a laugh at the offended look on David's face. Henry was dashing around the campsite, an excited Roland at his heels, trying to figure out where he could help out the most.

"Hey, that chocolate is imported and very good if you'd give it another try," David grumbled as he unloaded a cooler from the bed of his truck.

"Ew, no," Henry said wrinkling his nose as he watched Robin and August trying to set up one of the tents. "It tastes like dirt, not chocolate."

Laughter broke out across the campsite making Henry beam and David scowl. Killian was still chuckling as he picked up the last of the duffel bags from the bed of his own truck and dropped them to the ground. He figured if there was anything in them that broke it was the owner's fault for bringing something fragile on a camping trip. The bottles of beer in the coolers notwithstanding.

When Robin had told him they were going camping he had assumed he meant the lads from Locksley's with Roland tagging along. He had gone on a similar trip with them when he first moved to Storybrooke and was still working with them all. It had thrown him for a loop when Robin corrected his assumption and told him it was Henry's trip and he had wanted Killian to go along.

He was surprised further when he realized that Robin and Roland were the only other people going that he knew as more than an acquaintance. He didn't even think he knew Henry well enough to be invited along at all, let alone with his somewhat uncle, his godfather, and the man and son who'd been in his life for far longer than Killian had. Robin had just shaken his head when Killian said as much and told him to make sure he didn't make any plans for Labor Day weekend.

"Killian, is it true that you can navigate by the stars?" Henry's face popped up over the side of his truck.

"Me personally or anyone?" Killian asked as he grabbed a shovel and a small axe before hopping down to the ground.

"You, I guess? Mom said that people used to do it all the time and that you used to be a sailor. Plus when we went to see the Intrepid it didn't seem like using the stars would be helpful on a boat that big."

"The size of the ship doesn't matter, lad, the stars are sometimes a far more reliable source than GPS. I haven't had the opportunity to do it in a long while but it's a skill I'll never forget," Killian said with certainty as he passed the tools over to Henry and bent down to pick up the bags.

It was one of the few memories he had of his father, hazy and incomplete but still hanging on. He had spent a long time ensuring that Killian and Liam were able to effectively use a sextant, even going so far as to keep them up late on school nights out on his small boat in the North Sea. Killian knew that that, more than anything, influenced both him and his brother to pursue a life on the water.

"Neat. I'd like to learn something like that. All old timey and kinda like a special skill," Henry said wistfully as he followed Killian to the tents.

"I could teach you if you'd like," Killian offered as he set the bags in front of the tent that was already set up.

"Really?" Henry asked excitedly.

"Sure, you'd have to talk to your Mom about it first, as it will involve some late nights and perhaps even some sailing."

"Cool," Henry said with awe. "She'll totally say yes 'cause it'll be like an after school program but cooler. Plus she'll be able to go on more girl's nights without having to hope Uncle David or August are free."

"What do you mean, lad?" Killian tried to keep the rampant curiosity out of his voice.

"She likes to hang out with Aunt Mary Margaret and Ruby when she's upset about something and doesn't want me to know. They've been hanging out a lot since we got back from New York," Henry sighed, a tired, worn sound that belied his age. He shook himself and plastered a big smile on his face, "Do you think Uncle David will let me chop up a tree for firewood?"

Killian's head spun with the abrupt change in topic, "Probably not a whole tree but it never hurts to ask."

Henry's smile relaxed. He handed Killian the shovel and gripped the axe in both hands, careful to keep the blade away from his body and glancing around him to make sure Roland wasn't underfoot. With a semi-salute with the axe Henry spun on his heel and traipsed away to where August was struggling to get the final tent pole to remain in place.

Killian became aware that he was being watched and turned to find David regarding him warily. He hadn't had a conversation with the man since him and his wife had been at the nursery for their garden but he'd had come away with the distinct feeling that David would do anything for the ones he loved. Even if it meant ceding to Mary Margaret's disdain of the windmill he'd had his eye on, much to Killian's amusement.

Keeping in mind that David was a trained marksman Killian gave him a polite smile and forced himself to relax as he strolled to the ring of stones that marked the fire pit. It wasn't that he was afraid of the man, far from it in fact, but he knew that if anything started on the trip it wouldn't end there and he had apparently already fallen a few pegs where Emma was concerned. Getting on the bad side of one of her closest friends wouldn't do him any favors.

Grabbing a trashcan Killian started shoveling the ashes of previous fires into it, clearing the pit out for their own use, and trying not to think about Emma and her abrupt change in demeanor since she had returned from her trip. It worked for all of three minutes. There were a lot of ashes and no one was around to distract his thoughts, not even an errant jay or squirrel to focus on.

After their date he had spent a ridiculous amount of time 'mooning' as Will put it. He hadn't said anything to his cousin, of course, but somehow the idiot had figured it out. Killian had made him swear on pain of death that he wouldn't spread it all over town, or even mention it to Robin no matter how much money he was bound to make. Will had been taken aback but agreed.

It had taken a day or two before Killian realized why he felt lighter, freer, and why the corners of his mouth wouldn't stop lifting into a grin. He was happy and he was fully open to the possibility that he could fall for Emma. The heartbreak he had been living with since Milah's death was all but gone, just a small pang from time to time. Fear of the guilt that he thought would assail him at daring to move on was just that, a fear. Knowing Milah, the woman she had been, she wouldn't begrudge him happiness, she would have even pushed him harder than Will or Robin to find it. In the depths of his grief he had forgotten that detail about her.

That wasn't to say he wasn't plagued by self doubt and hesitance at how to proceed. Emma's reaction after their kiss had shown Killian more of her character than she probably realized. Physical intimacy wasn't the issue, far from it in fact. It was the intimacy of the emotional kind that had had her avoiding his eyes and waiting until he wasn't standing right next to her to confirm her hopes for a second date. He wanted nothing more than to take her to one of the best restaurants in town but he knew it was probably too much, too big of a gesture on his part.

Killian had decided that starting things small and slow was the best way to move forward. He had started leaving various flowers around places he knew she'd be the one to find them. Her car was an easy target, a guaranteed find for her and the least likely to be pilfered by a passerby. The greater challenge came from putting the blooms in locations she frequented often but might not get to in time to find them. His riskiest placement had been at the booth they sat in time and again at Granny's. He'd arrived early one Sunday to set it on the table, unaware that Ruby was working but glad she would make sure Emma got the fiery orange Gerbera daisy. Even if it did mean he was subject to her questions and subjecting Emma to the same.

Along with all the flowers he began inviting her to have lunches with him. He made sure to keep it an informal thing. Instead of directly asking her Killian decided to make a game of it. The first time he sent her a photo of his work's time clock he wasn't sure she would understand. Waiting at the diner in their booth he had fiddled with his phone, writing and rewriting texts explaining himself and trying not to obviously watch the door. Moments before he finally sent a clarifying text Emma entered the diner and smiled when she saw him sitting there.

It wasn't long before it became a regular thing between them. He would text her and head to the diner, then she would join him a few moments after he arrived. Emma was busy preparing for an expo that Regina had dumped upon her and had told him that while she was looking forward to it she had absolutely no free time. The hint that she made sure to make time for their lunches was not lost on him.

During that time Robin had called him with the invitation to go camping. When Killian had asked Emma about it at their next lunch she had just shrugged and said that the whole thing was really his idea so of course Henry would want him there. Henry repeated the sentiment when he received a text from him that night, using Emma's phone. Killian found was constantly trying to disentangle two conversations from one phone number. Although Henry was the one more likely to message him first than Emma.

The last time they'd had lunch together Henry had joined them. Which had been a surprise and not an unwelcome one. Killian could tell that Emma was letting him into her life, quietly and slowly but in the only way she knew how. He relished in it, showing her that he not only enjoyed her company but that of her son's as well. When the lunch was over and she had been leaving the diner he had stopped her to wish her luck with a gentle tug on her wrist, his thumb sliding over her pulse point. He liked to think he hadn't imagined her eyes darting to his lips or her nearly imperceptible sway towards him, even when she only smiled at him and grasped his hand as she thanked him.

They had exchanged a few texts while she had been away at the expo and even less after she arrived in New York. Killian had figured she was busy, it wasn't as though they had talked every day before she left. He didn't expect her to suddenly change her habits, no matter how many times his own fingers itched to send her a message just to say hello.

His consternation, what it was that had him shoveling ashes with increasing vigor, was Emma's demeanor after her and Henry had returned to Storybrooke. She had shown up to the diner when he invited her the day after she had gotten back but she had seemed distracted, only answering his questions with short, perfunctory answers. When he suggested they grab a drink at the Rabbit Hole later that night she had avoided his eyes and made an excuse about still needing to unpack. She didn't answer any of his texts after that.

Henry, on the other hand, had taken to texting him almost non-stop. Killian had almost stopped feeling the thrill of anticipation when Emma's name illuminated his phone. Henry had seemed to know that something was amiss with his mother, even though he hadn't said as much to Killian. Instead he had sent nothing but message after message about their camping trip, eager to be in the woods, despite having only recently returned from the city. Aware that Emma was most likely reading the exchanges between him and her son Killian kept the conversation focused on the trip and not the reason behind Henry wanting to escape.

He hadn't even had a glimpse of her before he left with the others for their trip. They had met up at Robin's house before heading out and Henry had arrived seated between David and August in David's truck. Killian had been disappointed and frustrated but hid it behind a grin and feigned eagerness to be on the road. His dour mood had only lightened once they hit the hour mark of the drive and woodland had completely taken over the scenery flying past the windows. Until Henry had mentioned outright that his mother was upset for some reason, that is, and Killian wasn't the only one to notice.

"You should talk to him."

Killian huffed in surprise and was rewarded with a plume of ashes in his face. Coughing he turned an annoyed gaze on Robin as he approached.

"Talk to whom, mate? In case you haven't noticed there's naught but us males out here."

"It's a boys' trip, what else would you expect?" Robin fished a handkerchief out of his back pocket and offered it to Killian as he came to a stop by the firepit. "August was saying that Henry was quiet the whole ride up here. He and David were a bit concerned because apparently it was something Henry didn't want to discuss with them."

"What makes you think he'll want to talk to me? I'm still trying to figure out why I was invited in the first place," Killian murmured as he wiped his face off.

"Sometimes I wonder if you and Will are truly cousins but then moments like this happen and I know you both inherited the same thick skulls from some unfortunate relative," Robin was shaking his head in mock disgust.

"Lay off the family, Locksley, and get to the point," Killian sighed as he went back to shoveling the last of the ashes into the trashcan.

"Henry may be twelve but he's not blind. He sees the same thing the rest of us do but without all the bullshit us adults attach to it. In fact, he probably has a better grasp on what's going on between you and Emma than even you two do," Robin chuckled as Killian's jaw dropped open in shock. "He knows you're important to his mom, even if neither of you are ready to admit it. That's why you're here, on this trip, with the rest of us."

"And I should be the one to talk to him because?" Killian said unnerved, trying to process what Robin was saying.

"Because maybe he needs to talk to someone that is still a bit objective when it comes to listening to him. David and August might not give him the types of answers he wants because they'd prefer keep him happy rather than keep him informed. A boon for you I'd say."

"Who's to say that I'd give him any kind of sound advice or anything worthwhile?" Killian felt mildly panicked at the thought of possibly damaging Henry emotionally in some way.

"I'd say you did a fairly good job on his birthday. Just keep that in mind and think it over, worst case he'll just want to know everything about you instead," Robin clapped him on the back and called out to the rest of the crew. "Alright, lads, who's up for exploring our home for the next three days?"

It wasn't until the next afternoon that Killian was presented with an opportunity to talk with Henry. He had mulled the idea over carefully while he watched and noticed that Henry was putting on a show for David and August. When their backs were turned, however, the mask would slip and Killian was afforded glimpses of the confused and sad boy underneath. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Henry needed someone to talk to but didn't want to burden the people he was closest to. Killian made up his mind to try to talk to Henry but the instant he did he found it nigh near impossible to get a minute alone with him.

Another hindrance Killian encountered was the fact that David seemed suspicious of him and kept a watchful eye on him. Somehow he knew that it everything to do with how he seemingly and suddenly dropped into Emma and Henry's life. Killian would have been suspicious too if someone like him appeared out of nowhere and crashed into the lives of people he held dear. He knew the portrait he painted: a foreigner who when he came to town skirted just on the right side of the law and then essentially disappeared for months until bursting brightly onto the scene with no one to vet for him besides a cousin whose own reputation was hardly stellar and a former boss who saw the best in everyone. It wouldn't have been surprising if David hadn't run a background check on him already and if he had Killian was shocked he was allowed on the camping trip at all.

In the end it was Henry that unknowingly gave Killian the window he needed. He had been itching to chop up wood for their fire since Killian had handed him the axe. Despite having brought enough split logs with them to last through an entire week Henry was adamant about taking advantage of what the forest could provide them. August had finally volunteered to take Henry into the woods but Henry had insisted Killian be the one to go with him. The suggestion had earned a lot of raised eyebrows and a frown of disapproval from David but in the end Henry's insistence won out. Killian was amused when he led Henry on a trial into the woods five minutes later with the axe in hand and a promise not to lose anymore fingers.

"What about this one?" Henry asked eagerly, pointing to a small spindly tree swaying gently in the wind.

"No, lad, it's a sapling. Not only will it burn poorly but it's still a young tree, perhaps as old as you. It wouldn't do to cut it down before it has a chance to grow into its mighty potential."

They had walked along the trail for ten minutes, Henry pointing out various trees to chop up and Killian gently prodding him along. As they went along he could find no way to casually inquire as to what was troubling Henry. He hadn't had much interactions with kids, aside from the occasional moments with Roland, and none whatsoever with pre-teen boys who happened to be the son of the woman he was interested in. He was at a loss until once again Henry came to his aid.

"Mom always says ominous stuff like that. Like, how I shouldn't take living in Storybrooke for granted because the rest of the world isn't as fairy tale perfect as home kinda is. It must be a grown-up thing," Henry said, eyes downcast as he kicked at a stone in their path.

"Perhaps it is. I remember my father would rhapsodize about how resisting the call of the fates was a fool's endeavor. It wasn't until much later that I understood what he meant," Killian sighed as he moved to sit on a fallen log on the side of the trail.

"What did he mean?" Henry asked as he sat down beside him.

"That he was already planning on abandoning us at the first opportunity," Killian said with a self-deprecating smile. "The fates apparently had plans for him that no longer involved us."

Killian remembered waking up the morning his father had left, the only complete memory involving his father he had. He had woken up early on a Saturday morning, hoping to beat Liam to the t.v. for once. It was early in the summer, they had been out of school for only a week and it had been mere days until Liam's thirteenth birthday. The day had dawned cloudless, the sky an unbroken blue expanse, a seemingly perfect day.

As he had bound down the stairs he had only been thinking about what cereals they had in the cupboard and whether or not Liam would like the gift he had saved up to buy for him. In his distraction he hadn't noticed his brother standing and staring at the front door. When he crossed the hallway from the kitchen to the den he finally caught sight of Liam. Killian had been disappointed, sure that he'd be forced to watch something he didn't want to, then he realized that something was very wrong. Liam had turned to look at him, his eyes red but dry, and told him that their father was gone.

"Where did he go?" Henry asked quietly.

"I'm not quite sure, I haven't heard from my father in twenty-five years. I don't even know if he's still alive," Killian shrugged and looked over at Henry. "I survived though, I had my brother and eventually our aunt found out what happened and took us in."

Will's mother had picked them up from school two years after their father had left and told them they would be staying with her. They had been shuffled from home to home up until that point, Liam adamantly refusing to be separated from Killian the entire time, which resulted in them running away a few times when it was suggested. While she wasn't their true aunt but their mother's cousin, she was the only family they had left and the courts granted her guardianship until Liam turned eighteen. She had told them she would have found them sooner if only she had known what had happened.

"But where was your mom?" Henry's eyes were wide with concern.

"She had died a few years before. Cancer. I don't think my father ever got over it," Killian sighed again and dug into the dirt with the heel of his boot.

He had only been five when it happened and he had even fewer memories of his mother than he did of his father. Liam had been ten and made sure to tell Killian stories about their wonderful raven haired mother before they went to sleep at night for years. To him she was more a character from a story than a mother but if he concentrated hard enough he could picture her grey-blue eyes looking down at him and the scent of honeysuckle still made him ache for the comfort of her arms around his shoulders.

"I think my mom's upset about my dad," Henry told him quietly as he scuffed his own heel in the dirt.

"What makes you think that, lad?"

"I heard her on the phone with Aunt Mary Margaret the other day. She was whispering so I wouldn't hear anything but I heard her say his name. When she hung up she looked really sad and made mac and cheese for dinner."

"Mac and cheese?" Killian prompted when Henry didn't elaborate.

"Kraft mac and cheese, you know, the one with powder cheese," Henry smiled briefly. "We only have it when she's not feeling good and she doesn't even make a vegetable to go with it to make it 'healthier'. We haven't had it since last winter."

"Really? Seems like the ideal meal choice for your growing bones."

"Oh, I'd eat it all the time if I could but Mom doesn't trust me using the stove yet and she likes to argue that it's not that great after a while. I just think it makes her remember a lot of things she doesn't want to," Henry said as he looked down and focused on the marks he was gouging into the dirt.

"Like your father?" Killian asked, unable to help himself.

"Yeah, he sent my mom to jail and disappeared. I don't even think he knows I exist. Guess the fates had different plans for him too."

Killian was surprised by the matter of fact tone of Henry's voice. When he had finally understood that his father wasn't coming back Killian had been upset and later angry. It was an anger that he still carried with him. He could feel it threatening to break loose at the injustice of Henry having to deal with a father's abandonment along with not having any idea of whom the man could be.

"Would you like to meet him, if you could?" Killian asked, curious.

"Maybe? I dunno. He really hurt my mom, she doesn't even say his name when I'm around, but…"

"He's still your father."

"Yeah," Henry sighed wistfully. "I don't even know if he'd like me."

The rage and heartache that coursed through Killian at Henry's statement surprised him. He took a calming breath, knowing Henry was paying close attention to his every move.

"Henry, you're an extraordinary boy who loves adventure, is exceptionally bright, and from the concern you show for your mother you love with a ferocity unrivaled," Killian slid off the log and knelt in front of Henry, putting both hands on his shoulders. "It is an honor to know you and if your father ever has the opportunity to meet you I'm absolutely sure he'd feel the same."

"Really?" Henry looked at Killian with wide, uncertain eyes.

"Absolutely," he said emphatically, as he stood up and gave Henry a bright smile. "Now, this log we've been sitting on seems to be exactly what we've been looking for. That is, if you still intend to provide more wood for our fire tonight."

Henry glanced down at the log he was still perched on. Killian could tell he was still mulling over what he had been told but the unease had disappeared.

"Are we gonna chop up the whole log?" Henry asked, seemingly daunted by the task.

"No, lad," Killian laughed and handed Henry the axe. "We're merely going to take a few whacks at the end over there and on a few of the branches. I'm fairly certain the lads back at camp haven't burned through all our wood while we've been gone, so we'll just bring them an armful or two more."

It took them an hour to chop up enough wood to tire Henry out and supply them with a satisfactory amount of wood and fresh blisters on their palms. As they walked back along the trail towards their campsite Henry eagerly shared with Killian how excited he was to be a junior high schooler. While he listened Killian felt a monumental shift in his chest, akin to the twisting of his gut when Emma was near. He realized, gazing down at Henry and smiling at his enthusiasm for school of all things, that he well and truly cared for the boy.

It was a revelation to know that he did care, that he could after everything that had ever happened to him. When they emerged into the camp, arms laden with sticks and hunks of wood, Killian was laughing heartily at one of Henry's stories and feeling lighter than he had in years. Not even the thought of Emma's attempt at pulling away could cast a shadow over his good cheer. Killian was more determined than ever to show her that he was worthy of a place in her, and her son's, life.

* * *

 **A.N.: I love the Captain Cobra dynamic and I love the idea the Henry would learn a piece of Killian's past that Emma doesn't already know.**

 **Did y'all see that photo of Colin Ginny posted on the OUAT Instagram? I may have turned slapped a title on it and made it into a cover of a romance novel and I may have written a fake synopsis to go with it. I might also have put it under the 'my writing' tag on my Tumblr (not that I actually intend on writing an story based off it).**

 **Until next week my friends.**


	15. Chapter 15

**While Kitsis and Horowitz still own the characters I still want to play.**

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Emma was sure that she was wearing a rut into the linoleum of back hallway of the diner but she was helpless to stop herself. It had been Henry's idea and with Robin's help they had gathered a decent crowd. She hadn't been aware of what was happening until the day before and Henry had told her in no uncertain terms that she had to get Killian to Granny's at eight the next day for his surprise birthday party. He had left it up to her how she did it.

When the boys had returned from their camping trip nearly three weeks before Emma had made it a point to be there to pick up Henry. While they had been gone Mary Margaret and Ruby had harped on her endlessly about pushing Killian away because of her brief run in with Neal. Ruby had been upset after Emma finally told her the story about Henry's dad but she had been even more upset that it was still dictating how Emma was living her life. Emma knew they were right and being at Regina's on Monday afternoon to get Henry was a small step in moving past it.

The trucks had pulled up at the exact time David had text her earlier that they would. She had been surprised to see Henry seated in the front of Killian's truck with August sitting behind him. As David had pulled in behind them she caught his eye and he gave her a look she couldn't quite decipher. It was part apology, part exasperation, and something close to guilt but she wasn't sure. Before she had a chance to dwell on it Henry was bounding up to her, covered from head to toe in a layer of dirt, and already sharing stories from his weekend.

They only stayed at Regina's long enough to sort out what belonged to whom and Emma could feel Killian's gaze on her the entire time. She had intended to say hello, maybe even make a joke about the general unkemptness of everyone's clothes, especially his but she couldn't do it. She couldn't even look him in the eye and face the fact that he had no idea what had caused the abrupt change in her attitude. It was with a guilty but relieved sigh when she finally got the last of Henry's things in the car, including him, and was able to head home.

Henry surprised her again that night over dinner. He had been talking nonstop about the trip, even making her sit outside the door of the bathroom while he showered so he could yell over the water about how they had found a creek that led to a shallow pool that they had gone swimming in all weekend. Emma had just taken a bite of salad and nearly choked when Henry casually mentioned that Killian was going to teach him how to sail. He proceeded to explain how it was like an after school program but cooler and more practical. She didn't even get a chance to put up a feeble protest before Henry looked at her with sad eyes and told her he would understand if he couldn't but he thought it would be good for him to have someone to talk to other than David and August. Henry had failed miserably to hide his grin of triumph when she reluctantly agreed.

It took her a few days before she was able to corner David at the Sheriff's station to interrogate him about what had happened over the weekend. In the meantime Killian had resumed leaving flowers in wait for her, but only on her car or in her mailbox, places she was sure to find them. David told her about Henry wanting Killian to be the one to take him to get firewood and when they had come back they had been nearly inseparable the rest of the trip. He begrudgingly told her that Henry had seemed out of sorts up to that point, not really talking to him or August, but after the time with Killian he had been back to his normal self.

Emma wasn't sure what to do with that information. David had patted her on the shoulder and told her that Killian was an okay guy, despite his past. He had a guilty look in his eye that immediately tipped her off that he had done a background check on Killian. She then spent ten minutes berating him for abusing his power and left the station irritated, still not knowing how to make things right.

Days passed and Emma had done nothing to push forward or pull back when it came to Killian. He hadn't invited her to anymore lunches at Granny's but she had sent several thank you notes for the flowers to him. It was a cautious stalemate that Henry seemed to grow more frustrated with whenever he asked her when he could start learning how to sail. Finally Henry had taken it into his own hands by planning the party. She had been stunned when Henry had shoved her cell phone into her hands and told her everything he had prepared. He had grinned widely as she gaped at him when he put it on her to convince Killian to show up.

Only the knowledge that the party was the next day and that she couldn't let Henry down that way had her spending forty-five minutes composing the perfect text. She didn't want to come across as flippant, or pleading, or disinterested, or too interested. In the end she had sent Killian a picture of the time clock at the nursery, one of the many he had sent her, telling him the time to meet her the next day. He had responded simply with a 'see you there' and she had been on edge ever since.

"I swear to God if you keep hiding back here I'm going to give you a mop and make you work for your hiding space," Ruby's voice broke through Emma's musings.

"What are you doing here? It's a Friday night, you hate being here on Friday nights," Emma deflected.

"Well, there's this surprise party for the cousin of a guy Graham keeps arresting and the cousin keeps having to bail him out so they're kinda friends. I'm his date."

"The guy or the cousin?" Emma teased half-heartedly.

"The cousin. Turns out he's quite the specimen of man and his blue eyes are just so dreamy," Ruby swooned into Emma's arms, forcing her to hold Ruby up.

"Very funny," Emma grunted, pushing her away.

"I thought it was. Just like how you're going to end up walking a mile in this tiny hallway when we have a perfectly good treadmill for the B&B."

"I didn't know you guys got a treadmill."

"Yeah, for those few tourists who don't understand the concept of letting yourself go when you're on vacation," Ruby dismissed with a wave of her hand. She stared hard at Emma and shook her head. "I can't believe you're still letting that Neal shit get to you."

"I'm not…" Emma started to protest.

"Yes, you are. He's an asshole who left you alone and you're still afraid that everyone is going to do the same to you. No wonder it took so long for you to get things rolling with Blue Eyes and now you're just letting it wither away," Ruby sighed dramatically.

"He has a name."

"Still gonna call him Blue Eyes."

"You know this crap is hard for me right?"

"Duh, it took you almost seven years to tell me about Neal in the first place. Not to mention how long it took you to trust me at all and I'm beyond trustworthy," Ruby said as she smiled proudly.

"Except for arranging an audience for my date with Killian at the Rabbit Hole," Emma stated dryly.

"Well, that was a worthy exception. It worked out in your favor, though, right? I could tell you were on cloud nine for days after that night, even if you hadn't told me anything about it," Ruby affected a hurt tone, pouted her lips and blinked her eyes quickly.

"I told you eventually."

"After your freak-out over Neal. Guess what, it's been a month since it happened and the world hasn't ended. I think it's okay for you to believe that you won't be seeing him again. You didn't happen to hand him a card with your phone number, address, and blood type did you?" Ruby asked.

"Of course not," Emma said impatiently.

"Then let's get out there and have a good time," Ruby threaded her arm through Emma's. "In your case I think you should have a _very_ good time."

Emma scoffed but allowed herself to be dragged back into the main part of the diner. It was already filled with people, some she knew and a few she didn't. She spotted Robin and some of his workers at the counter, Graham was sitting and talking with Anton at a table, and Henry was in a lively conversation with Will by the door. Henry had insisted on streamers and balloons but Emma had drawn the line at a pinata. It was bad enough the cake hidden in the kitchen was decorated with the skull and crossbones of a pirate flag.

Glancing up nervously at the clock Emma saw that it was getting close to the time that she had told Killian to meet her. While she waited, sitting at their booth, she thought about what Ruby had said. It was the same thing that Mary Margaret had been telling her since she got back from New York. Neal was her past, a painful part, but he deserved to stay there and she deserved to be happy. With a resolute nod of her head she focused her attention on the door, ready to have a good time and get back to where she was five weeks before.

Right on time Killian came breezing through the door. His eyes immediately zeroed in on the booth where Emma was sitting and when he saw her there a grin lifted the corners of his mouth until he was smiling like a fool at her. She couldn't help the answering smile that quickly turned to laughter as he suddenly realized what was going on. The dozen or so voices yelling out 'Happy Birthday' and causing him to jump in surprise made her laugh even harder.

"Bloody hell," Killian gasped as he scanned the rest of the diner. "You might want to warn a man before springing something like this on him."

"That's the point of a surprise party. It's supposed to be a surprise!" Henry said joyfully.

"And a grand one it is at that," Killian smiled and moved away from the door. "Here I was thinking everyone had forgotten about me. Good to know I still have a few people I can call friends."

"Can't really forget your birthday, mate," Will said standing next to him and clapping him on the shoulder. "Especially when it gives us all a reason to drink. In your honor of course."

"Of course," Killian said rolling his eyes and tipping a small wink at Emma.

It was another hour before Killian dropped into the seat next to her at the counter where she had settled to eat her piece of cake. He had a slice of his own, somehow snagging a piece from the middle with only the barest hints of black frosting. Emma had seen how the dye wreaked havoc on clothing and teeth when Henry had passed her earlier on his way to get a second piece.

"You lucked out," she said pointing to his piece with her fork. "I think I'll need more than a spot remover to get the black frosting off of Henry's shirt."

"It's a perk of being the birthday boy. Everyone bends over backwards to make sure it's a grand day," Killian said beaming at her. "I'm surprised you even knew it was my birthday, let alone organized the festivities."

Emma blushed and dragged her fork through the frosting of her cake, "It wasn't me. Henry and Robin did everything together. I just had to make sure you showed up when you were supposed to."

"Well, you chose an effective means to do so."

Emma wasn't sure how to respond to that. She couldn't tell if he was upset by the fact that she had used his tactic against him or hopeful about it. It was at that moment that she realized how unfair she had been to Killian. He had done nothing wrong, nothing worth suffering for her insecurities and she was punishing him for it by keeping him at arm's length.

Putting down her fork she pushed her plate away, "Look, can we talk?"

"I've found when a woman says that, I'm rarely in for a pleasant conversation," Killian said cautiously around a mouthful of cake.

"Just," Emma huffed out a breath in impatience, "Can we go outside. I'd rather not have all your friends listening in."

"Of course," Killian agreed, pushing his own plate away. "I'm sure Will and Robin have enough fodder for the next few weeks considering you're here at all."

"Good to know we're still feeding the rumor mill," Emma muttered as she slid off her stool and headed towards the door.

She could feel Killian following closely behind her as she pushed open the door. The night was cool, a hint of the encroaching fall in the air. Emma had left her coat inside but she knew what she had to say wouldn't have them outside for long.

"Is everything alright, Swan?" Killian asked as the door swung shut behind him, muffling the noise coming from inside the diner.

Emma turned to face him. He was a few steps away from her and seemed to be bracing himself for what she had to say to him. She felt even worse than before.

"Yeah, everything's fine. Well, not fine but it has nothing to do with you. I mean, it has a little to do with you but not in a bad way," Emma rambled.

"You've lost me, love," Killian said bemused.

"It's kind of hard to explain," she hedged. "I'm not very good at this but I wanted to say I'm sorry."

"For using my idea to get me here?"

"For dropping off the planet like I did. It wasn't fair to you," Emma said quietly, keeping eye contact despite the urge to drop her eyes to the ground.

Killian seemed surprised. His eyes widened and he rocked back slightly on his heels.

"I'd say it was more like you just dipped under the radar for a bit," he mused, running his fingers through the hair that had fallen over his forehead. "What's changed?"

"Nothing's changed, I just realized that there were things in my past that should be left there."

"Like Neal."

Emma stared in shock at Killian. He also seemed shocked by what he had said, like he hadn't meant to say it out loud.

"Who told you?"

"No, one. Not really," he said, seeming genuinely upset he had mentioned anything.

"What do you mean, 'not really'?" Emma was ready to storm back into the diner to yell at Ruby or call Mary Margaret and tell them to keep their noses out of her business.

"Henry mentioned his father on the camping trip. He assumed, correctly it seems, that you had some kind of interaction with him. Henry was worried about you but didn't want to talk to either David or August. I'm sorry if I was out of bounds," Killian said apologetically.

Emma felt herself deflate. A rush of guilt swiftly replaced her anger. She had thought she had been doing a good job of keeping her worries hidden from Henry.

"Is he okay?" Emma asked upset. "I didn't even know he knew anything was wrong."

Emma started to go back into the diner but Killian caught her elbow as she walked past. Before she could protest he pulled her in front of him, keeping his hand firmly where it was.

"Henry is fine, love, just concerned about you. He's a smart kid, are you really that surprised that he realized something was off?"

She had been focusing her gaze on the ground but at his question her eyes snapped up to his. He was looking at her with a mixture of awe and exasperation, a look so at odds with the turmoil she was feeling that she couldn't help the bark of laughter from escaping. She quickly slapped her hands over her mouth but the way Killian's eyebrows shot up in surprise had her laughing even harder.

"Am I truly that amusing, Swan?" He asked, a hint of offence in his words.

"No," Emma gasped, trying to get her breath back. "Well, yeah. It's been an emotional month."

She didn't finish explaining and realized that she didn't have to. Killian was smiling down at her in understanding. Belatedly she realized he was gently rubbing his thumb above her elbow, a soothing gesture that made goosebumps erupt across her arm.

"We should head back inside. It's probably not a good idea for the birthday boy to miss the rest his party," she said, still sounding a little breathless but no longer from her laughter.

"No, that would be bad form," Killian murmured in a low voice, inching closer to her. "Wouldn't want the gossip mongers to start wagging their tongues about us disappearing together."

"I think it's already too late for that," Emma chided, tipping her head back to keep his face in view.

"Damn," he cursed in mock disappointment. "Perhaps we should ensure that our reputations won't suffer in vain."

"Hmm, what would you suggest we do Mr. Jones?"

"I could think of a few things, Ms. Swan."

Emma grinned as Killian's hand slid up her arm. Her eyes slid closed as his fingers dragged gently across her cheek as he tucked her hair behind her ear. She could feel his breath ghosting across her lips, a moment's hesitation that caused her stomach to flip in anticipation.

"Emma!"

The voice shouting her name caused Killian to groan and drop his forehead onto hers as he sighed in frustration. In contrast, Emma's eyes had shot open at the unwelcome intrusion, any sound she could have made dying on her tongue. Her vision blurred as she tried to focus on Killian's face, mere inches from her own. She imagined she would be able to count every individual eyelash on his closed eyelids and she was tempted to do it. Anything to keep her from having to confront the man who had been haunting her thoughts for the past month.

Emma had stiffened and her breathing had quickened at the sound of Neal's voice. It didn't take long for Killian to notice, not with how closely they were standing and with his hand resting lightly on the back of her neck. He opened his eyes and she saw his confusion.

"Swan?" Killian asked quietly, pulling back but not breaking eye contact.

"Emma, I know this is a bad time but we need to talk," Neal's voice was closer, tinged with a twisted note of satisfaction.

Killian was still gazing down at Emma, not acknowledging their intruder, and for that she was grateful. She knew that he could see the panic in her eyes, hear it in her breathing, but he hadn't put the pieces together.

"Neal," she breathed out shakily.

Emma knew Killian heard her when his fingers flexed against her neck and his jaw clenched tightly, causing a muscle to jump in his cheek. Her hand quickly shot out and gripped his forearm. She was dismayed to feel the muscles tensed up under her fingers and a quick look confirmed that both his hands were balled into tight fists. Gently she squeezed his arm until his eyes, hard as diamonds and full of anger, met hers.

"Please, don't," she begged him, quiet enough that only he would hear her.

She needed to to take care of the situation quickly. Neal had found her, sought her out, and she didn't know why. At the moment it didn't matter, she just needed to get him to leave, to agree to talk to her later, anything to get him away from the diner before things could spiral out of control.

"Neal," Emma said as she turned around, aware that Killian hadn't moved and was most likely staring daggers at Neal. "What are you doing here? How did you find me?"

"It wasn't that hard," Neal scoffed. "Just Googled you and there you were. Did you know you're the first result that pops up? Well, the tattoo shop you're a partner in is. Good for you, didn't think you'd stick with it after that one time with Nibs."

"Why are you here, Neal? How did you even know where I was?" Emma felt her frustration rise as Neal grinned toothily at her.

"Like I said back in New York, we should talk. Grab a drink at the Rabbit Hole, catch up. I got into town this morning and August said you'd be here tonight."

"August."

Emma stepped back like she had been punched in the stomach with a lead glove. Killian's hands grasped her shoulders firmly as she collided with his chest. His solid presence at her back was reassuring, giving her the strength to stay and deal with Neal instead of turning tail and running like she did in New York.

What Emma wasn't willing to deal with was what August had to do with Neal being in Storybrooke. He knew better than anyone her history with the man. August had even met him once or twice when she was with him and had told her Neal was bad news. She was at a loss to explain what had changed August's mind.

"Yeah, I saw he was working with you at the shop. Some things never change I guess," Neal looked her over and grinned. "Anyway, I called the place to test the waters. I wanted to talk to you but you weren't there. August was though. We had a short but interesting conversation, all he would tell me was that he thought I should come back but not why."

"Come back?" Emma could feel the panic clawing at her insides. August hadn't told Neal about Henry but he might as well have. It was the only explanation for what he had done.

"Long story, but he said it was worth my time. Do you happen to know what the hell he meant because the sooner I find out and get the hell outta dodge the better," Neal said calmly but Emma could see the tense set of his eyes.

"I'm pretty sure you've been led on, mate. There's nothing for you here," Killian's voice was genial but Emma could hear the note of steel in it.

"Wasn't talking to you, _mate_ ," Neal sneered, finally acknowledging Killian. "Geeze, Emma, is this what August made me come all the way up here for? To tell you the truth, I'm not impressed."

"I'm quite sure I don't need to impress you. Unless it's to impress upon you that it's time for you to leave," Killian's fingers flexed almost imperceptibly on her shoulders but Emma could feel it, she was already hyper aware of her surroundings.

"Look, Jeeves, why don't you go back inside and let me finish talking to Emma," Neal said dismissively, focusing back on Emma.

Killian's hands dropped from her shoulders but before anyone could move further or say anything more the door to diner opened, bells tinkling merrily.

"Hey, why are you guys out here? Robin says that Will bet him that Killian can't hit the bullseye and they let me bet with them. I couldn't find you though and Will said that if we couldn't find you that we'd forfeit and he gets all the money."

The panic Emma had been pushing down broke free at the sound of Henry's voice. Schooling her features to not give anything away to Neal she spun around quickly and tried to communicate silently to Killian to go along with her. He seemed to understand because he gave her a tiny nod.

"I'll be right in, kid. Go ahead with Killian and get started while I finish talking to this man," Emma smiled but it felt too wide, too insincere for Henry to believe.

"Okay, I guess but I need to borrow twenty dollars," Henry said hesitantly but still with a grin.

"Don't worry, lad, I'll spot you but be warned Will might still cheat you out of it in the end," Killian said with a strained smile of his own, turning Henry by his shoulders to lead him back inside.

Emma turned back to Neal. He had a confused and calculating look on his face and before she could distract him he called out.

"Hey, what's your name, buddy?" Neal asked in a strangled voice.

"Henry…" Henry said as he went to Emma's side.

"Henry what?" Neal's eyes darted quickly between him and her.

"Swan," Henry answered slowly. He turned to Emma, "Mom, who is he?"

"How old are you?"

"Henry, go inside with Killian I'll be there in a minute."

"How old are you!"

"Twelve!" Henry yelled at Neal and then turned to look at her with wide eyes. "What's going on?"

"Twelve," Neal sounded like was fighting to catch his breath. "Emma is he…?"

"Mom?"

Emma could barely see through the tears gathered in her eyes. She hadn't wanted Henry to meet Neal if she could help it. He had asked her a lot of questions over the years, about his dad, about how they met, anything she could remember. It had been hard, sometimes, but she hadn't been able to say no. Answering Henry's questions was infinitely easier than avoiding them and inadvertently hurting him in the process.

Taking a deep breath she gently cupped Henry's face in her hands. He was looking at her with confusion and impatience. Killian was shifting from foot to foot in her periphery but she paid him no mind. Nothing was as important as the moment where her life would be tipped upside down by Neal again.

"Henry," her voice caught and she took another deep breath, "Henry, this is Neal. Your dad."

Henry's eyes flitted over to Neal and then back to her. Her eyes never left Henry, gauging his reaction, prepared to take him home the second he needed to get away. He slowly turned towards Neal, looking him over carefully.

"Emma, is this my son?" Neal's shaking voice finally pulled Emma's focus to him.

"Yes," she breathed, wrapping her arm around Henry's shoulders and pulling him into her side.

The sound of bells brought awareness of her surroundings back to Emma. She glanced over her shoulder only to find that Killian was no longer there. It was just her, Henry and Neal standing in the patio of the diner, each trying to wrap their minds around the events of the night. For her part, Emma just wanted to take Henry back home and hole up there until Neal disappeared but that was an impossible dream. Now that he knew about Henry, Neal wasn't going anywhere.

"How?" Neal's voice still sounded wrecked.

"Really, Neal? That's how you want to play this?" Emma practically snarled at him, remembering at the last moment that Henry was still at her side. "We had sex, I got pregnant, it's not that hard to figure out."

"That's not what I meant," Neal blew out a frustrated breath. "Look, this is a lot to deal with."

"Well, I'm sorry to inconvenience you. We'll talk about this later," she gave a worn out sigh and used the arm still wrapped around Henry to turn him and guide him back into the diner. She could tell he wanted to protest but he kept quiet.

"Hey, you don't just get to drop something like this on me and then disappear with my son," Neal only hesitated for a millisecond on the last two words but Emma could hear his acceptance of Henry in them.

She didn't want his acceptance, she didn't want anything to do with him. He broke her in so many ways Emma wasn't sure she'd ever be whole again and now he had a thousand more ways to break her even further. It almost physically hurt her to drop her arm from Henry's shoulders and let their son decide where to go from there.

Henry turned back. He silently regarded Neal and Emma wondered what he was seeing. Neal looked like a boy who hadn't realized that he was already an adult. He was wearing washed out jeans, a faded t-shirt with a sweatshirt and jacket over it, and tennis shoes that had seen better days. There was an air about him that he did as he pleased without regard to those around him, it had attracted her like a moth to a flame when she was younger, seeing it now just caused her to shudder.

Emma was turned half towards the diner and half towards where Neal was standing. There was a part of her that wanted to step back, to let whatever might happen happen. A larger part had no intention of leaving Henry to deal with his dad making an appearance in his life. There was also a whisper, quiet yet insistent, that wanted to find Killian to explain that nothing would change, that Neal meant nothing to her anymore, that there was still a possibility for them to become a _them_. It was a lie she wouldn't tell, to either him or herself.

"Where were you?" Henry asked, his first direct question to Neal.

"I've been in New York, buddy," Neal spoke to Henry as if he were five instead of twelve. It made Emma cringe.

"No, when my mom got sent to jail. Where were you?" Henry's voice was shaking.

Emma looked down at him and instead of finding tears she realized he was trembling in fury. She had never seen Henry angry, even as a toddler his tantrums had been few and far between. Looking up at Neal she saw that he recognized their son's anger as well.

"Look, Henry, it's complicated," Neal said placatingly.

"Really, it's not. You set Mom up and you disappeared," Henry said succinctly. He turned to Emma, "Can we go home? I don't wanna be here anymore."

"Of course," Emma tried to keep the emotion out of her voice. "Let's grab our jackets from inside and then we can go."

They turned but before they could take more than a step another voice called out to her.

"Miss Swan, I hear congratulations are in order once again."

Emma had thought her night couldn't get any worse. The sound of Gold's goading voice proved her wrong.

She turned around slowly, pushing Henry towards the diner as she did. He didn't need to hear that another aspect of her life was slowly falling apart in her hands. After watching Henry go in and the door was closed again she faced the sidewalk where Gold was standing, where she was also forced to look at Neal. His appearance shocked her. Neal was staring at her like a deer caught in the headlights, eyes blown wide, mouth slightly open, and his fingers were twitching at his side.

"Neal? What the hell?" Emma asked ignoring Gold for the moment.

"Don't," Neal whispered so quietly she wouldn't have noticed he said anything if she hadn't seen his lips move.

"Are you going to introduce me to your charming friend, Miss Swan?" Gold started up the path to the diner, his cane clicking solidly on the cement.

"Um," Emma hesitated, unsure of what to do.

Neal chose for her.

"Hey, Pops," Neal said as he turned around, a sickly grin on his face.

Emma thought that nothing would ever shock Gold. He seemed unflappable, above the petty emotions of everyone around him. She would have paid good money to watch the myriad of emotions fly across his face. The satisfaction of seeing him upset had distracted her from fully realizing Neal's connection to Gold, the reason why he had mentioned being in Storybrooke before.

"Bay?" Gold choked out.

"It's Neal now."

"He's your father?" Emma's head was spinning. Only one thing stood out enough for her to focus on. "Why did he call you Bay?"

"Because it's my name, sort of," Neal answered, still facing his father. "My full name is Barric Nealson Gold. A pretentious kind of name only a man so full of himself would think of saddling his son with."

"So, who's Neal Cassidy?" Emma asked even more confused and could see that Gold was interested in the answer too. He was leaning forward, seemingly resting all of his weight on his cane.

"Me, had it legally changed as soon as I could. Didn't want to be saddled by my past any more than you do, Emma."

Neal still hadn't turned around, so she couldn't see how much of the truth he was telling her and she hated the fact that she cared. Gold, on the other hand, had successfully schooled his features into a mask of calm disinterest. She wasn't fooled, not for a second, the man was rattled and had already tipped too much of his hand.

It was time for her to escape, to leave the disaster brought about by Neal's arrival behind, if only for the night. Neal would still be around in the morning, learning about Henry and running into Gold had seen to that.

"Look, I don't want to get in the way of this touching reunion. If Henry is willing we'll be here for lunch tomorrow. Goodnight."

Before either one could stop her Emma went back into the diner. Henry was waiting for her at the counter, both of their jackets in his arms and stony faced. She looked around the room and saw Robin and Will talking, heads bent and shoulders tense, in one of the booths. The rest of the guests showed no sign of knowing what had happened outside, a mere ten feet from the door. They were all drinking, eating the last of the cake, enjoying the merriment the party had brought to Granny's. It didn't matter. None of it mattered when Emma couldn't find Killian in the crowd.

Walking up to Henry she plucked her jacket out of his grasp and grabbed his hand. Squeezing gently she led him through the hallway in the back and out the side door, the way the Killian must have left since he hadn't passed them out front. She knew she owed Killian an explanation but it would have to wait. All of it would have to wait. Her son and the mess their lives had become needed to be sorted out first, no matter how much she wished it could be different.

* * *

 **Did you really think Neal would go so quietly into the night? And things were going so well.**

 **I want to thank everyone that's been leaving reviews. I don't really answer them because I'd most likely give away too much of what's to come and I like keeping things a surprise. I really do appreciate them though, each one gives me an extra push to keep going on the next chapter.**

 **I will give you this much: next week we'll see a little of that Captain Charming people have been requesting but not quite where they were at the end of season 4. Think more of how they were in the episode Good Form only without that pesky dreamshade poisoning keeping David down.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Warning: There is heavy alcohol use and mentions of a character death in this chapter.**

 **Kitsis and Horowitz still lay claim on the characters but I shall be bringing them out for a lark.**

* * *

Three days. It had been three days since the disaster on his birthday. Killian was down at the docks, for no better reason than the sound of the water lapping gently on the wood beams supporting the pier he was on seemed to calm him. It didn't escape him that even though he hadn't been on the ocean in years he still sought it out when he felt his life slipping out of his control. Then again, there was nowhere else he could fathom being, whether he was on his way to being drunk or not.

Killian was lucky he had already requested the week off because he wasn't sure he would have made it to work after his birthday and definitely not with the anniversary of his brother's death following so close behind. Although he wouldn't call it luck, that his brother was killed three days after his birthday, resulting in a habit of drinking whatever liquor was on hand from the morning of his birthday on. The benders of his past had taught him not to even pretend that he could make it into work for at least four days after the nineteenth of September. It wasn't long before it became the one week of vacation time he took a year. One week a year where he let his grief, for everyone he had lost, consume him whole.

His birthdays had never been something he had looked forward to. When he was small he was lucky if he received any gifts. Liam had usually given him something, a small trinket or token to mark the day. As they grew older and Liam had started working the gifts had become a bit more expensive but no less cherished. The last gift his brother had given him was a leather satchel with an embossed gold medallion depicting an anchor surrounded by a laurel wreath on the strap that held the top flap shut. On the backside of the flap _Jones_ had been inscribed in the leather. Killian still used it with great pride.

After Liam's death the arrival of his birthday every year was just a harsh reminder that with the good comes the bad. When Milah had been alive she knew to leave him to his own devices but also to keep him from disappearing into the void of his grief. After she died he had no one to care, no one to stop him before he lost too much of himself.

He had anticipated that nothing would be different when he turned thirty-four. Will had dragged him out the year before but quickly became disenchanted with the idea as Killian had drank more and more. In the end Will had to practically bribe Graham into not arresting Killian and promising to keep an eye on him. It wasn't a surprise that Will hadn't even mentioned it or any kind of celebration as the day drew nearer.

The true surprise came in the form of a text from Emma. He'd had no actual contact with her since a moment where he caught her eye for a second when she was at Robin's to pick up Henry after their camping trip. Despite knowing, or somewhat understanding, what had her avoiding him it had still stung that she hadn't even acknowledged his presence. It did nothing to assuage his determination to try and become a part of her life, even if it meant just being her friend. He continued to leave flowers for her, not as many as he once had and no longer pressured her to join him at Granny's. She had seemed receptive to his attempts and her hand drawn thank you cards lined the top of the dresser in his room.

When the text had come through from Emma's number he had been sure it was Henry, letting him know that it could be any day that his mother would finally let him start the sailing lessons. Killian was genuinely looking forward to it but had hoped that Emma's approval wouldn't come until after his yearly breakdown. Seeing what the text actually entailed had his heart skipping a beat and his stomach dropping to his toes. The picture of the nursery time clock and the instructions to be there at 7pm sharp threw his plans to start drinking as soon as it was socially acceptable away. Emma didn't know it was his birthday but he had no intention of showing up to their first interaction in weeks completely wasted.

Not wanting to get his hopes up he had dressed casually, a pair of jeans and a plaid button down. He skipped having a pre-meet up drink altogether. There had been no need to tempt himself until he knew exactly where he stood. As a bonus Will had disappeared earlier in the day without so much as a 'happy' or 'birthday' leaving his mouth and his absence allowed Killian to prepare for meeting with Emma in peace.

Walking up the steps to enter Granny's he'd had a moment's panic, wondering if perhaps he was mistaken, that Emma wouldn't be there and he'd made a fool of himself. Yet, he reminded himself that she was the one who had contacted him and even if it turned out it was Henry waiting for him it was infinitely better than spending his birthday alone with a bottle of rum. Steeling himself, whether for disappointment or elation he wasn't sure, he had pulled open the door and stepped inside.

Seeing Emma sitting at their booth with a smile on her face to match the one on his own lifted a veil from his mind he hadn't realized was there. The lights seemed brighter, colors more vibrant, and sounds were crisp and jovial. It had taken a moment for him to realize there were balloons and streamers strung up all over the diner and that everyone there was someone he knew. Before he could fully put things together everyone was shouting 'Happy Birthday' and Emma was laughing.

It had started out as one of his better birthday celebrations, partly because he could remember most of it but mainly because of the knowledge that Emma was there of her own volition, for him. At first he hadn't had the chance to greet her, let alone converse with her, until he finally snatched up a piece of cake and used it as a pretense to sit next to her at the counter. They fell easily into the banter that he cherished, so when Emma had requested that they talk outside the diner he had barely kept himself from choking on his cake. He had hoped to enjoy more of the party before delving into more serious fare.

He had been surprised yet again when their talk had been good, if a bit confusing at first. He had been able to sense that Emma was still at odds with where her head and her heart stood. His slip concerning Henry and the bastard Neal had almost derailed her completely but he had rallied and nearly achieved what he had wanted to do since their first kiss, which was kiss her again.

Of course it's only when he was at his highest that he was brought crashing back down. Neal's reappearance hadn't phased him, annoyed him yes but he had been wondering if the man would have made it to Storybrooke sooner or later. He would have either punched the man for the wrongs he'd done on both Emma and Henry or gone back into the diner to allow Emma the privacy she deserved for confronting her ex. What he hadn't expected was for her to not only try to calm him down but to also need him to stay with her.

Killian had known that Emma's true worry was the moment that Henry would come out from the diner. His inquisitive nature and Neal's constant prattling made it an inevitability that Killian couldn't predict the ramifications of. The cheery sound of the bells marking Henry's arrival had been the sign for Killian to finally leave, despite Emma wanting him to take Henry back inside. Despite his own urge to stay by Emma's side he was an outsider intruding on the very private and painful revelation of who Neal was to Henry. He had stayed long enough to ensure that Neal wouldn't do anything rash and then taken his leave, unbeknownst to any of the others on the patio.

He had made his excuses to everyone when he re-entered the diner, encouraging them to continue the party in his absence. As usual it was only Will and Robin that realized something else was going on. They had seen him stepping outside with Emma and Henry had only left their company a few minutes prior. Killian knew better than to blow them off, Will would only pester him until he came clean anyway. It wasn't his place to tell Emma's story, so he made vague remarks about where she had gone and made a stronger argument for not feeling in the mood to celebrate. A pointed look was all it took for Will and Robin to let him leave without further inquiries.

Finding a drink that night wouldn't have been hard. It was barely nine thirty when he had left Granny's through the side exit. He had seen no point in forcing himself on the reunion scene out front again, there were enough wounds in his hide that he didn't need to dig into the ones that had been, at the moment, only mere scratches.

He was able to abstain from ducking into the Rabbit Hole only because the last time he had been in there was to meet Emma and it had led to one of the best nights he'd had in years. Killian felt it would somehow tarnish his memory of that night if he had gone into the bar to numb the sharp edges of Neal's arrival. Instead he had chosen to return to his apartment and dwell on Emma's apology, to revel in the teasing lilt and gentle acceptance in her voice as he had stepped ever closer, and to relive that infinitesimal moment where it was only them and the possibility of more.

The resolve to stay away from liquor lasted up until midday the very next day. His thoughts had kept him buoyant through the night but in the light of day there was no denying that he needed to find out where he stood with Emma. It was a risk to push her to put a definitive label on whatever it was they had but it was better to know than to continue building his hopes up. Especially with the father of her son back in her life.

In a move he had regretted almost immediately he had decided to approach Emma without letting her know that he intended to do so. From what he had gleaned from conversations with both Emma and Henry he knew that she didn't work on the weekends and that Saturday was the one day of the week where they neglected their obligations and could most likely be found at their home. Killian was on the way to her apartment, half a mind wanting to stop at the flower shop to grab a bloom or two, when the jingling of the bell on the door to Granny's caught his attention.

Any other time, under any other circumstances he wouldn't have turned his head towards the diner at the sound of the bells. It was a sound so familiar in the town that most people no longer noticed it, especially the wait staff who only noticed a new customer when a table was no longer empty when they passed it by. Whether it was the thought of what had transpired the night before or a passing inclination to grab a bite to eat Killian looked over at the diner, when he normally wouldn't have, and stopped dead in his tracks.

Sitting at the corner table, framed almost perfectly by the window was Neal, sitting at a table and smiling as though he had heard an amusing joke. Killian couldn't care less about the man but it was the source of his merriment that forced all the air out of his lungs and turned his feet to lead. Her back was mostly towards him but her head was turned just enough that he could make out her profile. Even if Henry, whom he had recognized from the scarf hanging off the back of the chair and the mess of brown hair on his head, hadn't been seated at her side he would have known it was Emma right away.

With his feet dangling off the end of one of the piers in Storybrooke harbor Killian remembered the exact moment his mouth seemingly dried out and his mind screamed to be numbed by drink. Emma had turned to look over at Henry, exposing more of her profile to Killian's view of her outside the diner. She had been smiling, a wide, carefree grin that matched the one on Neal's face. Gone was the tension and anxiety he had seen on her face less than twelve hours before. He was at a loss to explain how such polar opposite reactions could be caused by the same person.

After seeing Emma in the company of Neal everything seemingly blurred into a myriad of images and thoughts. He remembered going back to his apartment, stopping at a liquor store on the way. He remembered Will coming home from work, or perhaps the bar, later that night and just shaking his head at him before going to his room. He also seemed to remember getting a few texts but he had no desire to see who they were from, let alone try to pull himself together enough to compose a coherent response.

At one point, either very late Saturday night or very early Sunday morning, Killian had pulled himself out of his misery and tried to determine why he was taking it so hard. He wasn't in any kind of established relationship with Emma, they had only gone on one semi-official date and then she had pulled away not long after. His behavior was almost a mirror of how he had been after Milah's death and he hated himself a little for that. What right did he have to spiral out of control when his life was better than it had been in years? His guilt had him reaching for the bottle of rum he had discarded by his bed and he had passed out not long after.

Will had left him alone the next day, a move Killian respected but still couldn't help feeling a bit insulted by. He knew his toxic attitude would only end in him tearing into Will when his cousin's only transgression was having a life that was only marginally more put together than Killian's.

For most of Sunday Killian had stayed in the apartment, sometimes sleeping in restless chunks or continuing with his liquor induced self destruction. It had occurred to him that Emma might have been the one to text him the day before but when he had checked his phone it was dead and he didn't have the motivation to plug it in. Just one less thing to worry about until he pulled himself together again at the end of the week.

Monday had dawned bright, not a cloud in the sky and no hint that autumn was just around the corner. Killian had refrained from drinking long enough to sober up for his appointment with Dr. Hopper. It hadn't been a productive session, Killian had stonewalled all of Hopper's attempts to get him to talk about Liam and what had happened. He had shut down completely when the subject of Emma came up. Killian was almost disappointed Hopper hadn't pushed him harder, forced a reaction from him, but that was the reason he had stayed Hopper's patient, because he didn't push any more than what was necessary. Killian knew that he was just seeking a fight, a way to vent the roiling emotions messing with his head.

After his appointment he had wandered aimlessly through town. He didn't drink, despite the full flask in his jacket pocket. One thing his time with Hopper had done was let him clear his head enough to know that he was behaving abominably. Killian couldn't deny that the sight of Emma happy with Neal around had felt like all the air had been dragged out of his lungs and replaced with shards of glass. What the clarity following the session with Hopper made him realize was that he didn't have the whole story and jumping to conclusions was just a way for him to prevent himself from discovering where things actually stood with Emma. It was infinitely easier to rail against the unknown than face the potential of her rejection.

After the sun had set he had found himself at the harbor, the chill of the night seeping into his bones, the riddle of Emma and him teasing in his mind, and the ghost of his brother seemingly hovering over his shoulder. Knowing that he was close to simply draining his flask and turning back towards town to the liquor store he kept walking until he found himself at the end of one of the piers. Without hesitation he had sat, feet dangling over the water, arms folded over the lowest beam, flask in hand only to take small sips to stave off the cold he was feeling from the wind blowing in from offshore.

Sighing Killian dropped his chin on his arms. Liam would have cuffed him in the head over his dithering about Emma and he would have been disappointed that Killian had been mourning him the way he had been for the past fifteen years. He almost dropped his flask in shock when he realized how long it had been since he had last seen his brother alive.

They had been on a routine mission, delivering goods to the naval ships dotted along the coast of Africa. The attack had been a surprise, as intended by the pirates who managed to get aboard and injure several men before seizing the bridge. Liam, with Killian's help, had regained command after a few harrowing hours when they had overpowered the leader and incapacitated the rest of the men. During the fight for the ship Liam had been stabbed, unbeknownst to Killian, and only after seeing that his ship was back under their care did he collapse in Killian's arms. The medic was unable to reach them in time to save Liam's life.

Shuddering as he remembered supporting Liam as he slumped to the ground, succumbing to his wound, Killian unstoppered his flask and poured out a measure into the ocean. It was a pitiful offering to one of the most important people Killian had had in his life but it was better than nothing. He had barely been able to call himself a man when Liam died but it was the memory of his honorable and stalwart older brother that had kept him a good man despite his hardships.

Raising his flask to the open water Killian toasted to the night, "To you brother, another year gone but you are still not forgotten."

Tipping the flask to his mouth he drained it in one go. He sighed deeply and braced himself to stand up when he heard the sound of boots approaching him. The tread was heavy and measured and Killian was only mildly surprised to hear David Nolan's voice carry out towards him.

"I could fine you for having an open container," his voice was serious, no lilt of a joke to it.

"It's a container and it's open but there's naught in it but the memory of a liquid, mate," Killian shot back as he stood and faced the deputy.

"Don't push your luck, Jones. Is there a reason you're lurking around out here so late?" David was standing in the middle of the pier, several feet from where Killian was, with his hands on his hips.

"You've caught me. I'm performing nefarious deeds out here in the open where anyone could see me and report back to the Sheriff's station," Killian rolled his eyes and went to walk around David. "If you'll excuse me I'll just lurk back to my apartment to plan yet more misdeeds to commit."

"We got a call about a suspicious figure down at the docks," David explained shortly, hand raised to stop Killian from walking away. "I was nearby and decided to check it out."

"As you can see, it's just me and my thoughts down here," Killian bowed mockingly, ready to go home and remember his brother in peace.

Killian stepped to one side, intent on heading to down the pier to the shore when David stopped him with a hand on his chest and pushed him back none too gently. Killian, caught off guard and also somewhat off balance from the contents of the flask, stumbled backwards, nearly toppling over. Immediately he straightened up and clenched his fists, indignant that he was being treated unfairly by the man he had spent a weekend camping with only a few weeks before.

"What the hell, Nolan? I'm not doing anything wrong and even if I was that's no reason to manhandle me like a sodding drunk down at the Hog's Head," Killian rotated his shoulders to release the tension running through them and focused on keeping his hands loose at his sides.

"The smell of the alcohol on your breath would suggest otherwise," David answered tersely.

"Have I done something to piss you off? Perhaps I crossed a street at an offensive angle or accidentally littered and have yet to make amends?" He asked bitterly.

"I checked you out, Jones."

Killian stiffened. He knew that David might have, was actually sure he had. The confirmation of the act, however, made him see red. While his misdeeds were in his past they still made him burn with shame at his behavior. Drudging it up when his head wasn't fully on straight had the control over his anger slipping through his fingers.

"I'm flattered Nolan but I'm not interested."

"Funny. You know, it didn't surprise me, your record. Especially when your cousin seems to enjoy our hospitality every week," David smiled but it was a goading thing.

"It's interesting you went to so much trouble, mate, seeing as how I haven't been arrested for a few years and never on American soil. One might think you've developed a fascination with me," Killian winked and was pleased to notice the flush climbing David's neck.

"Can't be too careful where family is concerned," David said pointedly. "I had to call in a few favors but I'm glad I did."

Indignation rose up in Killian as he stared at David in disbelief. The implication that he would do anything to harm Emma or Henry was insulting. He wasn't some cad off the street and he surely wasn't the man who had deserted Emma, causing her and her son untold pain in the first place.

"I don't think I like what you're hinting at, mate," Killian bit down hard on the last word as he practically spit it out.

"Watch your tone, Jones. Wouldn't want to have to arrest you for public intoxication."

Closing his eyes briefly Killian sucked in a deep breath through his nose. The last mouthful of rum was coursing through his veins and he could feel his temper simmering right under the surface, ready to explode. His desire to unleash his frustrations in a fight had made a reappearance and it would be just like him to unleash it on David, who was not only a cop but someone very close to Emma. It was that thought that kept him reigned in, for the moment.

"I believe you're upset with someone and you're taking it out on the wrong person, David. If you'd be so kind, I'd like to go home now," he ground out as he tried once again to walk around the man standing in front of him.

"Just one more thing," David said as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Emma's been through enough and she doesn't need someone in her life that's going to disrupt everything she's worked for."

"Like I said you've got the wrong person. Or perhaps you haven't heard that Neal is in town and probably, at this very moment, wreaking the havoc you're accusing me of," Killian snapped.

"I know he's back in town. It's part of the reason we're having this conversation."

"Oh, so you _are_ aware that there is another person lurking about who is even less worthy of Emma's attention than I am. Be sure to remind him of his past misdeeds as you have so thoroughly reminded me of mine," Killian could feel his nails digging into his palm but hid his frustration behind a self deprecating smile. "Now, unless you've decided to give me a citation or arrest me I'm going to leave and try to forget that you thought it was necessary to have this conversation."

He finally walked around David and headed down the pier back to the shore.

"You know, I didn't understand why Emma was spending time with you," David's voice floated towards him. "It made even less sense then when Henry insisted that you come on the camping trip. I still don't, on paper you're almost as bad as Neal."

Killian spun around and marched back to where David was still standing near the end of the pier.

"I am nothing like that cowardly pissant," he sneered, arms shaking in an effort to keep from taking a swing at David.

"Not yet, anyway," David said smugly. "It's only a matter of time I think."

If he hadn't foolishly finished his flask Killian would have had a better tether on his temper. At least that was the excuse he would try to convince himself of later. In truth he had been spoiling for a fight from the moment he realized it was Neal interrupting Emma and him outside of Granny's. It was in no way a justification for his actions but he was beyond caring.

His arm jabbed out quickly, striking David's left temple. As David's head rocked to the side Killian's anger evaporated, leaving horror and shame in it's wake. He stared down at his knuckles, bruises already blooming under the skin, and wondered if David was right, that he truly was no better than Neal.

"Congratulations, Jones, you just earned yourself a stay in one of our cells. Turn around."

There was a cut above David's eye and, like Killian's hand, a bruise was already starting to form. Killian offered no resistance as the handcuffs cinched around his wrists and David recited his rights to him. He kept his eyes on the wooden planks under his feet as he was led to the patrol car waiting at the end of the pier. By the time David shoved him in the backseat and started driving to the station Killian was so filled with self loathing that he hoped no one would bail him out. He knew he deserved to be locked up for his actions.

"I'm sure one of your 'mates' will bail you out," David said over his shoulder with disdain, eerily reading his thoughts. "But don't think I'm going to take my eyes off you for a second."

"I would despair if you did," Killian murmured, dropping his head back on the seat.

The ride to the station was short and for that Killian was glad. He had the rest of the night to wallow in what he had done. It was only as the door slammed shut and David locked it that Killian acknowledged that he had most likely thrown away any chances he may have had with Emma. While he knew he was a better man than Neal, he had done a poor job of proving it. Her understanding, while wanted, would be undeserved and as he sat down on the cold, unforgiving metal cot Killian wondered how many more times he could be cut down before he finally stopped trying to get back up.

* * *

 **A.N.: Don't hate me.**

 **This was a difficult chapter to write and not only because of all the unfairness to Killian. A few things: Killian was already mentally primed to be a gloomy drunken mess from his birthday on, Neal's arrival just added fuel to the flames. David seems like a giant ass but remember this is from Killian's point of view and even in the show David didn't warm up to him until fairly recently. I am thinking about doing a little one shot from David's pov because he comes off as such a dick and he's definitely not, just very concerned about Emma getting hurt.**

 **Next week I'm going out of town but I definitely plan on getting the next chapter posted at some point. It may be up earlier in the week or it might have to wait until I'm able to snatch a random hour or so at a Starbucks. Don't worry, I'll make sure to get it up before the season premier (only a week and half left until season 5!) on Sunday. It might only be an hour before but it'll be up.**

 **Here's a hint of what's to come to tide you over: Emma won't be too pleased with David and we'll find out how her and Henry are dealing with Neal's arrival.**


	17. David's Remorse

**Bonus Chapter: This is the confrontation from David's point of view.**

 **The characters belong to Kitsis and Horowitz and in this case I'm afraid I've let them come out to fight**

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"I'm telling you David, back off, I can handle this on my own."

David winced as the line cut off before he could apologize. He imagined Emma would have slammed the phone down first, if wouldn't have destroyed it on impact.

He was sitting in his cruiser, having drawn the short straw to go out on patrols, with a thermos of coffee from Mary Margaret and a smile of commiseration from Graham. It wasn't often that he was forced to do a late night canvas of the town so he had little to complain about. There were a lot of things worse than driving around Storybrooke for a few hours on a Monday night. His decision to call Emma apparently being one of them.

Mary Margaret had told him all about Neal, eventually. He could tell there had been something bothering Emma when she was distracted and distant a few weeks earlier. At first he assumed it was because of Killian Jones, the man who had helped Mary Margaret and him with the final touches on their yard. Emma had seemed happy, deservedly so, before the trip they had all taken to New York and while David wasn't aware of all the gossip his wife and his friend shared he knew a lot of it had to do with Killian.

When Henry and Emma had come back from New York he would have had to been blind to notice the change in her. There were slight shadows under her eyes that only seemed to grow darker as days went by, even though she continually told him that she was fine and just getting back into her working routine. By the time the camping trip came along he was almost glad to be taking Henry out of town for the weekend, if only to give Emma whatever room she needed to pick herself back up. He hadn't even thought twice about being the one to take Henry to Robin and Regina's house, until he saw that Killian was joining them. If the man had been the source of Emma's happiness before their New York trip, David assumed he was the cause of her unhappiness when she came back. It explained why she had insisted he pick up Henry for the trip instead of driving him to Robin's herself.

The whole weekend was spent dividing his attention between watching Henry and observing Killian. David wasn't entirely sure why the man had been invited, especially with the way Emma had been acting. Henry didn't have the same reservations, practically hanging on every word Killian said. He ignored the sting of jealousy he felt that despite being practically family to Henry he was being cast aside for a glorified florist. Especially when Henry hadn't seemed his normal, talkative self with him or August on their way to their campsite.

As soon as he had returned to work he ran a background search on Killian. Nothing had turned up immediately but David hadn't expected that anything would. Killian had been living in Storybrooke for almost two years and there was no hint that he had lived anywhere else in the States. It would have been a reckless move not to check anyway.

After a few phone calls and the promise of favors in return he had secured Killian's arrest record from England. He knew that what he was doing was a definite abuse of power and probably had some kind of legal ramification if anyone found out but he convinced himself it was for the greater good. The safety of his family came above anything else.

To his disappointment, and relief, there wasn't much in the file but what was there was upsetting enough. Killian had been arrested a few times for public intoxication along with a few assault charges and court mandated therapy sessions. They had all happened within a six month period and had stopped once he had started the therapy. David's contact had also included a copy of a newspaper article about a car crash involving Killian and his wife, who had died as a result.

David shuddered involuntarily in his seat as he remembered when he had read the article. He had tried to imagine how he would react if Mary Margaret had been killed as senselessly as Killian's wife had and couldn't. Yet he knew he wouldn't have gone off the rails like Killian had.

"Hey, Nolan?" David's radio crackled on the dash.

"Yeah, Humbert, what's up?"

"We've received a call from down by the harbor about someone walking around out there. It might be nothing but would you mind checking it out?" Graham sounded exasperated, David figured he had probably just gotten off the phone with an older lady who had nothing better to do than watch out her windows for suspicious activity.

"Not a problem, I'll head over there now," he started the car and pulled out onto the road. "When the lady calls back tell her I'm already on my way."

Graham let out a bark of laughter over the radio before signing off. David smiled, glad he could end at least one conversation on a high note.

As he drove over he thought about what Mary Margaret had told him about Neal. He had been shocked and a little upset that she had kept it from him for years. True, it was Emma's story to tell but he hadn't kept a secret from Mary Margaret since they had first started dating. It was compounded by the fact that it explained so much of why Emma was the way she had been when they had first met her. He had never wanted to physically harm someone as much as he had after he had heard everything.

Mary Margaret had also told him that Killian had somehow been involved in Neal's reappearance the previous Friday night. She hadn't been able to tell him exactly what had happened, just that he had been there and Emma was trying not to panic about it all in front of Henry. David couldn't wait for the moment he finally met Neal and he also had a few words he needed to have with Killian, as well.

As he pulled into the harbor he couldn't see anyone walking around but staying in his car would only allow him to see the areas closest to the road. He let Graham know he was proceeding on foot and began walking around the various docks and warehouses until he reached the pier.

Despite the dark of the night David could discern a figure seated at the end. He made no attempt at stealth, instead walking with purpose to the end so as not to cause the person alarm. It wasn't until he was almost a yard away that he realized it was Killian, putting away what looked to be a flask and getting ready to stand.

"I could fine you for having an open container," David said it more seriously than he intended. His frustration at being helpless in the whole situation with Emma was asserting itself.

"It's a container and it's open but there's naught in it but the memory of a liquid, mate," Killian shot back as he stood and turned to face him.

David was surprised by how Killian looked. He had dark purple shadows under his eyes and it looked like he hadn't shaved for days. Even after three days in the woods Killian hadn't looked half as bad as he did now.

"Don't push your luck, Jones. Is there a reason you're lurking around out here so late?" he asked trying to get a gauge on the guy's emotional state.

"You've caught me. I'm performing nefarious deeds out here in the open where anyone could see me and report back to the Sheriff's station," Killian said without much heart as he rolled his eyes and went to walk around him. "If you'll excuse me I'll just lurk back to my apartment to plan yet more misdeeds to commit."

"We got a call about a suspicious figure down at the docks. I was nearby and decided to check it out," David explained shortly, raising his hand to stop Killian from walking away. He wasn't about to let the opportunity to talk to Killian one on one to slip away.

"As you can see, it's just me and my thoughts down here," Killian dipped into a mocking bow, keeping his eyes on him as he stood up.

Killian stepped to one side, obviously meaning to walk around him and head back to shore. David put his hand out to stop him and pushed him back slightly. He hadn't thought he put much force behind the move but Killian stumbled backward, almost tripping over his own feet. A waft of liquor reached his nose and David immediately reassessed the situation. In front of him Killian straightened up and clenched his hands into fists at his sides, the two covered fingers of his left hand jutting out in contrast.

"What the hell, Nolan? I'm not doing anything wrong and even if I was that's no reason to manhandle me like a sodding drunk down at the Hog's Head," Killian adjusted himself in his coat and seemingly forced his hands to relax.

"The smell of the alcohol on your breath would suggest otherwise," David answered tersely as Killian' arrest record surfaced in his mind.

"Have I done something to piss you off? Perhaps I crossed a street at an offensive angle or accidentally littered and have yet to make amends?"

"I checked you out, Killian."

David watched as Killian processed what he said. He grew rigid, like an animal caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. Except instead of being paralyzed by fear he was beginning to shake in anger. David felt a sharp twinge of regret but pushed it down.

"I'm flattered Nolan but I'm not interested," Killian said calmly, belying the fire in his eyes.

"Funny. You know, it didn't surprise me, your record. Especially when your cousin seems to enjoy our hospitality every week," David was antagonizing him, despite knowing nothing good would come of it.

"It's interesting you went to so much trouble, mate, seeing as how I haven't been arrested for a few years and never on American soil. One might think you've developed a fascination with me," Killian said as he had the gall to wink at him.

"Can't be too careful where family is concerned," David said finally driving home the point of the whole conversation. "I had to call in a few favors but I'm glad I did."

Killian had relaxed marginally but with his veiled mention of Emma had a galvanizing effect on him. The muscles in his cheeks ticked as he clenched and unclenched his jaw. David watched him warily, wondering if he had pushed him too far but needing to make absolutely sure his warning was understood.

"I don't think I like what you're hinting at, mate," Killian ground out, putting extra emphasis behind the t.

"Watch your tone, Jones. Wouldn't want to have to arrest you for public intoxication."

It was a low blow and David knew it. He briefly wondered why he felt like he needed to press Killian as hard as he was. Killian was a nice guy, from what he had seen but he couldn't get the arrest record out of his mind. No one was perfect but someone who became violent after a drink or two had no place being around Emma and Henry. Not to mention his possible connection to Neal.

Killian was very obviously trying to reign in his temper. David watched as he breathed deeply through his nose with his eyes closed. When they opened the scorching anger had been driven back but the fire was still there.

"I believe you're upset with someone and you're taking it out on the wrong person, David. If you'd be so kind, I'd like to go home now," Killian ground out.

Once again he tried to walk around David and once again David stopped him. He was going to lay it all out for him.

"Just one more thing," he said as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Emma's been through enough and she doesn't need someone in her life that's going to disrupt everything she's worked for."

"Like I said you've got the wrong person. Or perhaps you haven't heard that Neal is in town and probably, at this very moment, wreaking the havoc you're accusing me of," Killian snapped.

"I know he's back in town. It's part of the reason we're having this conversation," he retorted calmly, glad Killian had brought Neal up himself

"Oh, so you _are_ aware that there is another person lurking about who is even less worthy of Emma's attention than I am. Be sure to remind him of his past misdeeds as you have so thoroughly reminded me of mine," Killian's hands were clenched back into fists but he had a smirk on his face. "Now, unless you've decided to give me a citation or arrest me I'm going to leave and try to forget that you thought it was necessary to have this conversation."

Killian stepped around David and headed back towards the shore. David was trying to piece together how Neal fit in the picture but couldn't, especially after Killian had pointed out how he felt he didn't deserve Emma. It didn't change the fact that Killian still felt like bad news to him.

"You know, I didn't understand why Emma was spending time with you," he called out at Killian's retreating form. "It made even less sense then when Henry insisted that you come on the camping trip. I still don't, on paper you're almost as bad as Neal."

Killian spun around and marched back faster than David expected. He was really pushing his luck now but he had to know. For Emma's sake.

"I am nothing like that cowardly pissant," Killian spat out. Once again liquor fumes wafted into David's face.

"Not yet, anyway," David said, pushing just a little more. "It's only a matter of time I think."

David saw the punch coming. He had seen the moment Killian's anger snapped and before the fist connected with his temple he knew he deserved it. It would have been easy to step back or turn his head to lessen the blow but he didn't, not when he had intentionally prodded the man too far.

His head rocked to the side and he could have sworn he heard bells ringing in his ears. It may have even been a taste of Emma's own anger when she eventually found out what had happened. As he shook his head to clear out the daze he blanched at what he had set in motion. He had no choice but to arrest Killian, not only because he had struck an officer but also because he wasn't sure if the woman who had called the station was watching them, or anyone else for that matter.

"Congratulations, Jones, you just earned yourself a stay in one of our cells. Turn around," David said quietly but with authority.

David could feel a trickle of blood trailing down the side of his face but he ignored it for the time being. All the fight had gone out of Killian and he allowed himself to be handcuffed in silence, barely acknowledging his rights when David recited them. For his part, David was already ashamed of his actions, that he let his prejudices and assumptions get the better of him.

After he deposited Killian in the back of the cruiser he took in a deep breath of the chilly night air. Mary Margaret might understand when he told her what happened, she would be upset but she would understand. Emma wouldn't be as forgiving. He would be lucky if she would still be willing to look at him after she found out.

The drive back into town was quiet and tense. David had no idea what was going through the other man's head, his own was buzzing with remorse.

"I'm sure one of your 'mates' will bail you out," David said over his shoulder with dully, just wanting the night to be over. "But don't think I'm going to take my eyes off you for a second."

"I would despair if you did," Killian murmured, as he dropped his head back on the seat.

The man David booked at the station was a far cry from the man he had approached on the docks only an hour before. Killian looked like a broken man, one who had taken on the weight of the world and just accepted it as due course. David wondered for the first time, but not the last, if maybe he had severely misjudged Killian and was going to pay the price for it.

* * *

 **A.N.: I hope this kind of, well, not justifies what David did but explains his actions. Don't forget that Charming was very much antagonistic with Killian in season 2 and up until Killian saved his life in the episode Good Form in season 3.**


	18. Chapter 17

**Here it is! A day late but hopefully not a dollar short.**

 **The characters belong to Kitsis and Horowitz but I'm letting them out to play.**

* * *

Emma was in Hell or somewhere so close to it that it was just lumped in with the damn place anyway. She refused to believe that her life had become so complicated and annoying and _upsetting_. The only plausible explanation was that she had sold her soul and her contract was finally up.

Neal's reappearance at Killian's party hadn't been the start of her woes, their unexpected run-in in New York had been, but it was the catalyst for everything that had happened since that night. She had been so close, literally inches away, from getting what she wanted. Killian hadn't been upset with how she had been acting and her relief at that had been palpable. It had been new territory for her, to apologize for pushing someone away before they confronted her about it first. She wanted to make everything right with a kiss, instead Neal had shown up and it all crumbled through her fingertips.

Killian had disappeared before Gold's perfectly awful timing, Henry had been a little upset and confused by all the reveals of the night, and Emma had thought it would all calm down after a good night's sleep. Unfortunately for her sleep had been a long time coming that night. She had tossed and turned, called Mary Margaret around midnight to panic, and replayed everything in her mind and coming up with infinitely better responses hours after the fact. It wasn't until the sky was beginning to lighten outside her window that she had fallen into a fitful sleep.

When she had told Henry about possibly meeting with Neal for lunch she had thought he would refuse or think about it but ask to do it another day. Her groggy mind took a minute to realize that Henry had agreed with nothing but a shrug of his shoulders and a vague comment about getting it over with. She had still been sitting at the table with her mug halfway to her mouth a few moments later when he asked if he could play videogames until it was time to leave. Snapping back to herself she had made him clean up his breakfast mess and get dressed before he started playing anything. Nothing like keeping their routine going to stabilize the chaos storming in her mind.

The lunch had been awkward, stilted and charged with tension. It was obvious that Neal hadn't spent any time around kids of any age, asking questions that either had Henry rolled his eyes at before answering or had Emma stopping herself from kicking Neal under the table when she answered them herself. It didn't help that Ruby kept hovering by their table, having quickly put two and two together after eavesdropping, silently offering Emma support.

One single moment kept the thing from being a total disaster. Neal had been asking what Henry's favorite food was, just another question in a list of questions that Neal seemed to be working through to cover the basics and to almost bore Emma to death. Henry had paused for a moment and when Emma looked over she was surprised to see he was thinking hard about his answer even though she knew it was pizza, had been since he was five. Finally a grin stretched across his face and he told Neal about the time he had discovered being able to order pizza online and how shocked and angry she had been when twenty pizzas showed up at the loft. Neal laughed loudly, surprised, and Emma couldn't help but smile too. She had been pissed at the time but it had become funnier once they had finally finished off the last slice.

Emma had turned to give Henry a gentle push on his shoulder for bringing it up when a sudden movement out on the sidewalk caught her eye. By the time she spun around to get a better look out the window the figure was halfway down the block, shoulders hunched and briskly walking away. She had thought it was Killian, hoped that it was, but she wasn't able to tell for sure. With a sigh she had turned back to the table and listened as Henry answered in a bored voice that his favorite movie was the Avengers.

After their lunch with Neal, Emma had carefully asked Henry how he was doing. He had given her another shrug of his shoulders and said it was alright, not as horrible as he thought it might have been. She had bit back the million and one questions she had and just given him a commiserating smile. To distract herself she had sent a text to Killian, apologizing for the previous night and just wanting a break from her constant anxiety over Neal. He never answered and she had added it to her growing pile of concerns.

It wasn't until later, while they were watching Winter Soldier for the third time since she bought it, that Henry finally brought up Neal himself. Emma had desperately wanted to pause the movie so she could scrutinize every muscle twitch and every shift of his eyes to help her understand how he was really feeling, but she hadn't. She had known that the only reason he had been willing to talk was because she hadn't completely focused on him, so she had kept it playing.

Henry hadn't told her much that she hadn't already guessed was going on in his head. He had been annoyed by all the dumb questions and glad Emma hadn't made them stay after they had finished eating. Then he had been quiet for a long time, long enough that she almost missed his quiet murmur, asking her if Neal was going to stay in town. His question was hesitant, like he didn't want to upset her, but she had heard the reluctant hopefulness of it and it broke her heart.

Emma had finally paused the movie and turned to look at him, asking if he would be okay if Neal did stay. Henry had given her another non-committal shrug of his shoulders but she knew from the way his eyes darted away from hers that Henry wanted him to stay but didn't want to say so and be disappointed when she said no, or worse, if Neal pulled another disappearing act.

She hadn't known what to tell him. If her birth parents had dropped into her life suddenly and with no warning she would have been angry that they had shown up at all but she knew that she wouldn't have been able to help wanting to finally be able to learn about the people who had given her life. Henry had been lucky, he'd had her to answer his questions about his dad, even if she hadn't always painted him in the best light. She'd had no one, knew nothing and it still ached sometimes, in a deep part of herself that was never examined too closely. That was something she didn't want for Henry. In the end she told him that she needed to talk to Neal and find out what his plans were. Henry had gone to bed not long after with a small smile and Emma had ended up staying up for a second night in a row, worrying.

Sunday had been a little better. They'd had their usual brunch with Mary Margaret and David but Mary Margaret had kept shooting her concerned looks and asking Henry every five minutes if he needed anything. David had seemed amused but confused by his wife's behavior which meant that he hadn't been told that Neal was in town and possibly didn't even know who Neal was to Emma. It was a small beacon of normalcy that she had clung to all through their meal.

Mary Margaret had cornered her before they went their separate ways and asked permission to tell David the whole story. Emma felt herself sag a little, the thought of another person who would constantly treat her as if she were made of glass made her want to scream, but she didn't want to keep something this big from David. Her past with Neal had been her secret for a long time but she didn't have that choice anymore. By reentering her life he had affected everyone around her. Emma had assured Mary Margaret that she could tell David everything, no more half-truths or omissions on either of their parts. She did, however, warn Mary Margaret that her phone would be off for the rest of the day.

True to her word, Emma had turned off her phone as soon as she had gotten back to the loft with Henry. They had spent the rest of the day getting ready for the week to come with Henry doing homework and Emma doing laundry. She had even taken a much needed nap but not on purpose. She had been playing a videogame with Henry after he finished his homework and the two nights of little sleep had caught up with her. She had woken up two hours later with Henry nestled into her side, a blanket over both of them, and Back to the Future playing on the tv. They had kept from talking about Neal the whole day.

Emma tried to hold onto that feeling of contentment as she remembered what had happened the next day when August had shown up for his shift at the shop.

Being at work had been a wonderful but agonizing escape for her. Ruby had the night shift and no one else knew about her personal problems so she had been spared spending most of her morning repeatedly telling people she was fine. There were two things that had kept her morning from being completely worry free: Neal knew she worked at the shop and could have possibly shown up at any moment since she hadn't given him any other way of contacting her and Killian hadn't answered her text. Most worrying of all was that her order from Anton's was, lackluster, just a bunch of alstoemeria with a few roses interspersed throughout. There had been no card.

August had strolled into the shop as Emma had been on the cusp of calling Killian to see if he was okay. She didn't want to think that something had happened to him, he had seemed alright when she last saw him on his birthday but his radio silence didn't sit right with her. When August had cheerfully greeted her she had remembered what Neal told her. She had decided that contacting Killian could wait.

Emma hadn't minced her words when she confronted August. He hadn't even had a chance to take off his leather jacket when she asked him why he had told Neal to come to Storybrooke. She hadn't even given him the chance to answer when she asked him the follow up question of what the hell had he been thinking.

One thing August had going for him was that he never lied to Emma. They had known each other too long and too well for either of them to try and get even a tiny fib past the other. He had told her, a bit shamefaced but still meeting her eyes, that when Neal called he had wanted to hang up but couldn't because Henry deserved to meet his dad. August had been lucky, for an orphan, in that he had real, tangible, good memories of his own father. It was those memories, August had told her quietly, that prompted him to suggest that Neal come to Storybrooke but he had known he needed to let Emma be the one to tell Neal about Henry and vice versa.

She had hated August for a moment, that he felt the need to interfere with her life and try to push her and Henry in a direction they didn't have to. Then she had taken a breath and let the anger go, it wasn't worth being worked up over it when deep down she knew he was right. There were bigger issues at hand than his meddling. She still called him an ass and refused to talk to him for the rest of her shift, though.

The rest of her day had passed without incident. She had picked up Henry from school, helped him with his homework and made dinner, mac and cheese for the second time in three days but she was sure Henry didn't mind. All things that were part of their lives before the Neal incident and that Emma was determined to not lose because of it.

She had thought by the time Henry went to bed that she had made it through the rest of the day unscathed. When David called she wasn't surprised, just disappointed that hadn't thought to silence her phone again. As he began asking her what he could do to help and whether or not he needed to have a stern talk with Neal she couldn't help but snap at him. She even went so far as to hang up on him without saying goodbye, something she only mildly regretted after the fact.

After her call with David, Emma had finally silenced her phone and spent another sleepless night pacing around the loft, trying not to wake up Henry. She vaguely wondered if she'd ever get a real night's sleep ever again but the thought was swept away as she moved onto other thoughts.

Sitting at her station she was acutely feeling the continued lack of sleep catching up with her. Even the few hours she had grabbed had been thin and restless, plagued with nightmares where Henry kept disappearing and no matter how hard she looked she could never find him. August had given her a coffee as an apology when he walked into the studio five minutes after she had unlocked the doors but it was long gone and her lunch was still hours away. She was silently cursing Regina for not letting them have a coffee pot in the breakroom because 'they should support local businesses completely'. Fortunately Ruby was scheduled to be in soon and she would be able to run over to Granny's for the largest to-go cup they offered.

The jingle of the bell on the door and the rapid clicking of heels alerted Emma to Ruby's early arrival and it couldn't have come sooner. Her eyes had been drooping shut more than she cared to admit.

"What are you doing?" Ruby asked, stopping short when she saw Emma.

"Um, trying to stay awake or working. Whichever makes me seem like more of a boss... or more human. I don't know anymore. I'm very tired," Emma finished on a sigh.

"Sorry, I meant what are you doing here? I thought you'd be either tearing David a new one or soothing Blue Eyes' poor bruised ego," Ruby said carefully.

"What happened now?" Emma asked tiredly.

Ruby seemed taken aback by Emma's lack of response, "Well, David arrested Killian last night. I don't know what for, Graham wouldn't tell me. Hey, where are you going?"

Emma had grabbed her wallet and keys and was already halfway to the door. She spun back around to find Ruby looking at her in confusion and with a little bit of pride.

"I'm going to go tear David a new one," Emma ground out.

"And Blue Eyes?" Ruby asked, a smile threatening to break out on her face.

"I might get around to him if I haven't been arrested too."

"Well, you'll be in good company at least."

She gave Ruby a smile that was more of a grimace and left the studio with Ruby's yell of 'you go girl' following her out.

Knowing she probably wasn't in any state to drive Emma started walking towards the station. If she was lucky she'd be catching David at his desk, most likely doing the paperwork for Killian's arrest. If David was lucky he'd be away from his desk for one reason or other.

As she entered the station she noticed that only one cruiser was parked out front which meant her odds were still fifty fifty. The rational side of her believed it would be only Graham inside. David had most likely made the arrest late the night before, after he had called her, which meant that he would have the morning off. It didn't matter, it would give her more time to figure out what to say to him while she drove out to the house.

Rounding the corner into the main office she was grimly satisfied to see that David was at his desk, back towards her. It was only at second glance that she noticed that he was completely alone in the station. Both holding cells were empty.

"What the hell, David?" She let her frustration and anger tinge her words.

"Emma!" David jumped, startled, and twisted around to face her.

Her anger slipped as she was confronted with a fairly spectacular black eye peering up at her. There was also a cut just above his eyebrow that was held together with a bright white butterfly bandage. A wave of concern washed over her but she quashed it down. She could put together a general idea of what happened but she wanted to hear the story from David. If Killian had taken a swing, then there had to have been a damn good reason.

"There better be a good reason for that shiner and an even better one for why you arrested Killian last night. Why did you even go after Killian in the first place? My problem is with Neal, and apparently you, not him," Emma snarled.

"Emma, I can explain," David said placatingly, holding up his hands.

"You better," she crossed her arms and waited.

David blew out a breath and stood up to face her. He opened his mouth a few times, she guessed he was trying to figure out what to say.

"After you hung up on me I was thinking about how upset you've been since you came back from New York. I had thought it was because of Killian," he started.

"Is that the real reason you ran a background check on him? I don't need you vetting people for me David, especially if it's a guy. And what happened to 'he's an okay guy'?" She could practically feel her blood pressure spiking and took a deep breath. "Whatever, there's obviously more to the story. Go on."

"We got a call about someone down at the docks and since I was the one on patrol I went to check it out. It was Killian."

David paused and Emma rolled her eyes and made a 'go on' motion with her hand.

"He was drinking and from the looks of it he'd been at it for a while. I should have just let him go with a warning but I couldn't get his record out of my head. I was completely out of line, I know… I knew that. I pushed him too far, goaded him really, I completely deserved this," David indicated his eye ruefully.

"Yeah, you did," Emma said flatly. "What the hell was in his record that would make you do something that stupid? I mean, seriously, David you're a fucking cop you know better than to act like an overprotective asshole."

"I know. You're completely right but it's not my place to tell you…"

"Bullshit, David, you were out of line and I want to know why. If it had been Neal would you have pulled your gun on him?" Emma asked incredulously.

"Of course not!" He stepped back shocked.

"So, whatever Killian did was worse than setting me up to take the fall for a crime, getting me pregnant, and abandoning me? Because if it is I need to know."

Emma knew that there was nothing to worry about but she couldn't help the tiny niggling feeling that if Killian hadn't already told her, with everything they had already talked about, then it might be something bigger than she was prepared to deal with. Especially with the tangled mess her life had become.

"It's nothing serious," David reached out to touch her shoulder and Emma was surprised to realize that she was practically vibrating with tension. "Emma, it's nothing serious, I read too much into it. He was arrested a couple of times for public intoxication and assault, right after his wife died. That's it."

"So, you're telling me he was pretty much arrested for acting out because of grief and you somehow thought that meant he was bad news? Seriously, David? Guess what, he's human and while he might not have handled it in the best way it's completely understandable. Do you honestly think you'd be any better if Mary Margaret died?"

David recoiled, wincing, and Emma finally felt her anger ebb away. She could see that he intensely regretted what had happened.

"No, I know I wouldn't. Mary Margaret pointed that out to me while she put a little too much vigor into cleaning me up," he smiled hesitantly. It widened slightly when Emma smirked back. "That's why I let Killian go, no charges, earlier this morning. I'm really sorry, Emma."

"Yeah, you should be," Emma said without heat. "I'm still pissed at you but I'm too tired to still be seriously angry."

"That's a relief, I think," David's voice raised up slightly in a half question. "If it's any consolation, Mary Margaret is still upset too."

"Good," Emma felt her face stretch into the first real smile, small but real, since Friday night. "Look, I gotta go. I left Ruby and August alone in the studio and I'm still not entirely sure either of them knows how to enter an appointment in our program, and I don't even want to think about what they're talking about while I'm not there."

"Probably placing bets on if I'm still alive," David grinned, but grew serious. "Seriously, Emma, I am sorry. Can you make sure that Killian knows that?"

"What makes you think I'm going to see Killian?"

"Emma, you came in here ready to give me another black eye over the guy. I might have gotten things wrong before but it's easy to see that you care about him."

Emma shifted on her feet, uncomfortable with David's observations and the soft tone of his voice. She smiled wanly and turned to go, unsure how to respond.

"He cares about you too," David called after her. "Just thought you should know."

Her heart sped up as she turned the corner and walked down the hallway to exit the station. She was almost tempted to go back and find out exactly what he meant but she kept her feet moving forward. As Emma stepped out onto the sidewalk she was so distracted by what David had said that she bumped into someone.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I wasn't paying attention to..." the words died on Emma's lips as she saw that the person she had run into was Gold.

"Ah, Miss Swan. Just the person I was looking for," Gold said with a smile. "I thought we might have a few words. If you will."

Emma was instantly wary of what Gold might have to say to her. Not only was the fate of Queen's Quills in his hands but she owed him a huge favor and she had a feeling that he was about to call it in.

"I can't right now, I have to get back to the studio. If you stop by tomorrow I don't have any appointments and we can talk then," Emma said smiling politely.

"I'm afraid this can't wait," Gold's smile turned sharp. "I assure you it won't take up much of your time."

Crossing her arms she adjusted her stance so she was facing him head on, letting him know she wasn't intimidated. He watched her with amusement and placed his cane in front of him, leaning on it slightly.

"Is this about the favor I owe you?" She asked succinctly.

"Why, yes it is. I thought I'd have to dance around the issue but I can see you're still as direct as ever," Gold said appreciatively.

"Something I thought you would appreciate."

"I do, Miss Swan, I do. Seeing as how you have places to be let me be direct as well. My son, Neal," Gold's lips sneered around the name, "is planning on leaving our fair town without allowing me to atone for what I've done."

"What have you done?" Emma asked, curious despite herself.

"That is between me and my son. He intends to come to you to discuss visitation with your boy, my grandson."

Emma suppressed a shudder at his words. She had avoided thinking about that revelation but she saw that it had been a mistake. From the gleam in Gold's eyes, he was about to back her into a corner and she was helpless to stop it.

"You want me to give up custody?" She choked out, too horrified to go on.

"Of course not, Miss Swan. No, need to be so dramatic," his eyes were glittering gaily.

"What do you want then?"

"You need to get Neal to stay in Storybrooke. As long as it takes for him to talk to me, to listen to what I have to say," Gold sounded desperate but Emma couldn't tell if it was genuine or an act.

"And if I don't?" Emma knew that the stakes were high if she didn't but she needed to know how high.

"Then I'll find a buyer for the studio space, no need to wait until the six months is up since our agreement was merely a verbal one. I have no shortage of prospective buyers and all of them are more than willing to pay whatever rental price I deem fit to set. If that's not enough incentive I believe I might have just enough sway over my boy to have him rethink how involved he should be in his own son's life," Gold smiled toothily at her. "You have until Friday, when Neal intends to leave. Make him stay or you lose everything."

Gold walked around her, the clicking of his cane sharp in the wake of his threat. Emma didn't know how long she stood there, furiously trying to figure out what to do. She couldn't see any way out of it and even if she did Gold would find another way to screw her over.

Finally she got her legs to move but she didn't head back to the studio. Regina would be there by now, wondering where she was judging by the constant buzzing of her phone in her pocket. Instead she found herself walking towards the harbor, hoping to find any kind of answer down at the waterfront. She wondered if maybe that's why Killian had been there the night before, when David arrested him, to let the flow of the ocean act as a balm on a troubled mind. To Emma, it was worth finding out.

* * *

 **A.N.: So I decided to keep David's chapter in due to a suggestion from reader princesseslikepirates and support of the idea from my sister. Although now I'm toying with the idea of writing David and Mary Margaret's late night conversation but that'll have to wait.**

 **Next week we'll see David apologize to Killian and a bit more of Gold's reign of terror.**


	19. Chapter 18

**The characters belong to Kitsis and Horowitz on Sundays (and every other day) but I'm taking them out to play.**

* * *

"Jones."

Killian rolled over, irritated at whoever was trying to rouse him.

"Jones, get up."

He opened his eyes slowly and quickly realized that he wasn't in his own bed. For one the mattress he was laying on was lumpy and smelled strongly of chemicals. For another he was blearily staring at a dull brown brick wall instead of the off-white textured walls he was used to. Not to mention he doubted that David Nolan would ever show up at his apartment to be a personal alarm clock.

It had been a long time since he'd woken up in a jail cell but Killian figured it was pretty much the same protocol no matter how much time had passed or being in a different country. As he rolled back over his head felt like it was in a vice and his stomach gave a slow roll. He was focusing so much on not throwing up that it took a moment for him to realize that David was standing in the cell with him, a butterfly bandage closing the cut above his blackened eye and a contrite look on his face.

"Tell me you've got water and aspirin with you because I'm not sure I'm up for going toe to toe with you again at the moment, mate," Killian groaned as he slowly sat up.

"I thought you might be hurting this morning," David said in a low voice. "Here."

David held out his hand which was, in fact, holding a small cup of water and a packet of aspirin. Killian was wary of David's motives but took the items, figuring it would mean too much paperwork if he was poisoned while in police custody. The water was cool and refreshing on his parched throat and he fancied the pills had already started their work when he was able to hold up his head without feeling his pulse in his temples.

"I may be wrong but shouldn't you be standing on the other side of the bars with the door firmly shut and locked between us?"

"If you were being held and charged with anything I would be," David stated as he placed his hands on his hips. "Seeing as that's not the case I figured I should talk to you face to face, no bars."

Killian wondered if he had woken up in an alternate dimension, one that was the same in every aspect except that David looked as though he hadn't slept much and had trouble meeting Killian's eyes, a drastic change from the night before.

"I'm at a bit of a loss, mate. Are you letting me go or is this some elaborate ruse to get my hopes up so you can break my spirit a bit more," Killian tried to make it sound like a joke but David's wince told him he fell short of the mark.

"I'm letting you go, Killian," David said simply, dropping his hands and shrugging. "Figured it was the least I could do."

"The least you could do," Killian echoed more confused than ever, especially with David's use of his first name.

"For what happened last night."

"I punched you last night," Killian blurted out.

David huffed out what might have been a laugh but Killian wasn't entirely sure. He pinched his thigh, which hurt but did nothing to lessen his disbelief at what was happening.

"Yeah, you did but I deserved it," David sighed.

"Well, I wasn't going to say anything seeing as how you have all the power in our relationship."

"Which I abused by goading you into hitting me," David said seriously, once more ignoring Killian's attempt at a joke. "I had no right digging into your past and using it as a reason to push you the way I did. I definitely shouldn't have brought Emma into it at all. It wasn't fair to you and it really isn't fair to Emma."

"No, it isn't. Like I said, it's not me you should be worrying about now that Neal's in town," Killian said darkly.

"I know. I'll be on the lookout for him but I wanted to set things right with you first."

Killian looked up at David, his eyebrows up and eyes wide. It was easy to see that David meant what he said. He was shifting from foot to foot and his hand was rubbing the back of his neck. The feeling of getting lost down a rabbit hole just kept amplifying.

"Alright, who are you and what have you done with David Nolan? This has to be an Invasion of the Bodysnatchers type situation here because there's no way you'd be letting me go after what happened last night."

He watched as a grin played at the corner of David's mouth before it turned down in a frown. There was something in the movement that finally convinced him that he was witnessing a miracle.

"I deserve that. Hell, I deserve another punch to the face according to Mary Margaret," David said ruefully. "Which I'm sure Emma will be happy to provide when she hears about it."

"Ah, yes. I suppose we won't be able to keep that from her for long. What time is it? I'd like to know how long before I can expect an irate Swan on my doorstep," Killian arched his neck to look at the clock but the angle was off and the hands were too close together to tell.

"Seven-thirty. I would have been back sooner but I thought you could use some sleep. You looked like you needed it," David walked out of the cell and motioned for Killian to follow him.

Killian stood up slowly, mindful of his hangover and the lack of sleep that made his coordination a bit off. By the time he joined David at his desk there was a cup of coffee waiting for him and an empty chair he promptly dropped into. The coffee was weak and tasted as though it had been in the pot for hours but it was hot and washed the taste of the previous night's rum off his tongue.

"Cheers, mate," he said as he drained the cup. "Doesn't quite stand up to Granny's but it'll do. So where did this change of heart come from? I know it wasn't my sparkling personality."

"It wasn't so much a change of heart as a change in perspective. I wasn't kidding when I said Mary Margaret was threatening to give me another black eye," David said with a small smile as he sipped at his own coffee. "She managed to get my head out of my ass and get me to realize that maybe I might have judged you too harshly."

David paused and then said, "I'm sorry, Killian. Not only for that but for thinking you had anything less than Emma's best interests in mind."

Killian sat back stunned. He thought about using his empty coffee cup as an excuse for not meeting David's eye but dismissed the idea. David had been man enough to own up to his mistakes, Killian could do the same for his.

"I do," he said quietly, "have Emma's best interests at heart but it's no excuse for letting my emotions get the better of me. You may have goaded me into striking you but I'm the one who acted rashly as well. For that I'm sorry."

Both men were silent and Killian wondered, not for the first time, what David saw when he looked at him. He hadn't had a full night's sleep in days, his drinking had escalated while his food intake had declined, and it was only because of his appointment with Hopper the day before that he had taken the time to shower. If he had been in David's shoes he would have just left him in the cell to teach himself a lesson but David was apparently a better man than he.

In a way David reminded him of Liam. He was stalwart, good hearted, and fiercely protected the ones he loved. Killian smiled at the thought of Liam and David having a drink together, ribbing him for daring to pursue the elusive Emma Swan. Thoughts of the life that Liam should have had usually brought on a bout of dark musings but Killian felt oddly at peace at the image his mind had conjured. He felt his smile widen and tipped a wink at the confused look on David's face.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to get home and wash the disgrace off of me. Preferably before Emma seeks me out to pay for my atrocious behavior and marring your handsome face," Killian said jovially, biting back a laugh at David's scowl.

"Yeah, go ahead. I think I'll wait here for my own punishment. Something tells me I'm safer waiting here than being at home where both her and my wife can gang up on me," David's scowl deepened and then he brightened. "And being here I can at least put some locked bars between us if things get out of hand."

"Are you mad? Locking her up when she's already upset will just enrage her further!" Killian couldn't decide if he was shocked or impressed.

"Oh no, I'm not an idiot. I meant putting myself in the cell, give her the chance to yell at me all she wants but without the temptation of physically harming me," David said shrugging.

Killian laughed, surprised by the matter of fact tone of David's voice and the thought of him seeking shelter in a jail cell rather than confront Emma. He got a reluctant grin in return and Killian believed that some kind of test had been passed. Clapping David on the shoulder he made his way out of the station and onto the street.

It was still early enough that there weren't many cars on the road as Killian made his way through town. There was a chill in the air and the morning fog hadn't burned off completely. With a start he realized it was the first day of fall, a season most people associated with pumpkin flavored atrocities and the suspension of time between the idle days of summer and the cold, unforgiving nights of winter. He usually associated the onset of autumn with the inevitability of good things reaching their end. His early morning conversation with David had him turning that notion on its head. Not only had he walked away with the distinct feeling that he had made a friend of the deputy but that he'd also discovered a new facet of Emma's regard for him.

David believed that Emma would seek him out when she discovered what had happened the night before and not to offer her sympathies. Killian also knew that David was sure that she would be more upset at his own behavior than Killian's. Not that Killian thought he was off the hook but David's trepidation at talking to Emma had him believing that perhaps she cared more for him than she was letting on. The thought made him smile, even with the prospect that Emma would have some choice words for him as well.

Walking past Granny's his stomach gave a pathetic grumble at the scent of bacon in the air. He refused to think about the last time he passed by the diner as he walked through the patio and climbed the steps to enter. Just knowing that he had somehow gained David's approval and found an ally in the anti-Neal camp was enough to stoke his appetite and rally his spirits.

He was halfway through his eggs and toast when a body slid into the opposite side of the booth from him. It took him a moment to remember the name of the somewhat older man sitting in front of him. Mr. Gold had only been out to Anton's once or twice since Killian started working there but he was well aware of the man's reputation. He was extremely wealthy and owned half the town and the other half was left wondering if he'd come after them next. Killian was instantly wary as to why Gold was seeking him out.

"Can I help you?" Killian asked with polite confusion. He figured it was better to feign ignorance and try to gain the upperhand in the conversation.

"I believe you can," Gold assured in an accent that Killian couldn't place. "But first let us dispense with the games, Mr. Jones, and you'll find that this conversation will end up benefiting the both of us."

A flash of warning went off in Killian's head when Gold said his name. It indicated that Gold had an awareness and power in Storybrooke, far greater than Killian had guessed, that he used without discretion. If Gold knew his name there was an immense chance that he knew far more about Killian than Killian wanted him to know. His hopes of trying to outwit Gold crumbled to dust.

"Seeing as how I've never quite had the pleasure of an introduction, Mr. Gold, I'm wondering how a conversation will benefit me, let alone you," Killian drawled, sitting back in the booth and crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm nothing compared to you."

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong," Gold disagreed with an impish smile. "In fact, I'd be willing to say you're more important than me at this point. Which means you hold all the power."

"Power? I don't know where you get your information from but I have as much power as that man over there," Killian scoffed as he pointed at a random man seated at the counter. "Perhaps you should talk to him instead."

"Yes, it would appear that you and Mr. French are quite similar but he is already indebted to me whereas you are not. That puts you at a far advantage over him already," Gold said with a wave of his hand.

"Look, I'm not interested in whatever it is you're trying to ensnare me in," Killian stated as he pulled out his wallet to pay for his half eaten food. He wanted to get away before he became caught up in whatever Gold had approached him for. "I've had a bit of a rough weekend and I'd like to get home for a shower and to sleep in my own bed."

"Yes, I heard about your altercation with Deputy Nolan. Although, I'm not surprised he let you go. He is, after all, a good man at heart," Gold sneered and then tapped the table with his forefinger. "Stay seated for a bit longer, Mr. Jones, I've barely begun."

Killian wanted to glance around the diner, to find anyone who would help him or even interrupt their conversation. He knew, without looking, that it would have been a waste and also would have tipped Gold off to his unease. No one would voluntarily go up against Gold, not when they had their own dealings with him and definitely not for someone Gold had purposefully sought out. Instead Killian kept his eyes trained on the man in front of him, schooling his features into a mask of indifference.

"Then get to the point," he ground out.

"If you insist," Gold said with a smile that sent chills down Killian's spine. "You're going to abandon your pursuit of Miss Swan."

He stared at Gold, waiting for an explanation and not quite believing what had been said. His lips twitched in an involuntary smile. The situation was too ridiculous to be actually be happening and Killian wondered what Gold really wanted.

"I'm sorry but what does my relationship with Emma have to do with you?" Killian asked incredulous.

"Relationship? From my understanding you're far more invested in your 'relationship' than she is," Gold paused and Killian tried not to show how the words had affected him. "Which should make your withdrawal from Miss Swan's life rather simple."

Killian tried to hold onto the thought of how Emma was on his birthday. She had been open, happy, flirtatious even, all despite her anxiety about Neal. He remembered her smiling up at him, her laughter as it echoed in the night, and even though he knew Gold was merely playing on his insecurities it was hard to keep those memories from breaking apart.

"I'm not going to abandon or withdraw in any way from Emma," Killian said vehemently. He had no intention of doing that to her unless she was the one telling him to do it. "If you'll excuse me."

"Sit down, Mr. Jones," Gold snapped at Killian who was halfway out of the booth. "You will leave Miss Swan alone or she will lose everything."

All the air left Killian's lungs as he dropped back down into his seat. Gold was looking at him with mirthful satisfaction, like a cat that had cornered his prey. Killian clenched his fists under the table and tried to keep his fury from showing on his face.

"What game are you playing, Gold?"

"Ah, it's not a game, in the strictest sense. I own the building that Mrs. Locksley and Miss Swan have set up their little shop in. In fact the flower store you work in is under my ownership as well," Gold grinned. "I have every right to sell the property without notice and I'm fully capable of doing so, seeing as how I've been floated several offers. Leave Miss Swan alone and they get to keep their quaint little business, as does Mr. Velikan. If however, you go against my wishes there are further consequences to your actions."

Feeling sick to his stomach Killian didn't want to know how far Gold was willing to go. He wasn't even sure Gold could do what he threatened but the certainty in his voice told him Gold could. There was also the reason that had Gold choosing him to focus on, which was a mystery, but Killian knew better than to go against the man.

Taking a deep breath he asked, "Not that I'm particularly keen to know but what are the further consequences?"

"I'm happy you've asked," Gold trilled, his grin stretching to show too many teeth. "Miss Swan's boy happens to be my grandson."

"Neal is your son," Killian interrupted, shocked.

"Yes, yes, amazing how small this world of ours can be," Gold waved his hand dismissively and continued. "I have plenty of influence with the courts and they might be inclined to find that Miss Swan is an unfit mother."

"You can't do that!" Killian slammed his fist on the table, rage coursing through his veins. "You think your son, the one who abandoned her and disappeared for twelve years, would be a better parent? No court in their right mind would grant him custody."

"Perhaps not, but the legal battle could stretch on for months," Gold's eyes were glittering. "And who would know for certain with whom the courts would favor with their decision."

"Why are you doing this?" Killian asked, breathless with disbelief.

"I don't need to justify my reasons with you. But be content in knowing this: there is nothing I wouldn't do for family," Gold stood up from the booth and smoothed out his coat. "Do we have an agreement?"

There were a million thoughts that were flying through Killian's head but he had no time to consider any of them. Gold wouldn't leave until he agreed to the atrocious terms. He felt even more nauseous at what he was about to do but could see no other way to buy himself time.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?" Gold pushed.

"I'll back away from Emma but I can't guarantee that she'll back away from me," Killian said vehemently, staring daggers up at Gold.

"No you cannot, but I can," Gold intoned ominously.

Before Killian could process what had been said Gold was already out the door, bells chiming merrily.

He wanted to run after Gold, force him to explain what he meant or break his nose or anything other than remaining in the diner like a fool. Somehow he knew he would only make his position worse and cause Emma trouble she didn't deserve. In jerky, uncoordinated movements he stood up from the booth and forced himself to walk out of the diner slowly.

As he walked home a plan began to formulate in his mind. It would take time and a few questionably legal maneuvers but it was better than letting Gold walk all over him. By the time he reached his apartment he was already ticking off everything he would need to do.

"Will!" Killian yelled as soon as he opened the front door.

"There ya' are, mate," Will's voice floated out from the kitchen. "I was wonderin' where you'd got to last night. Good to know I didn't need to bail you out this mornin'"

"You almost did but that can wait," Killian said as he entered the kitchen and sat down at the table.

"What do you mean by almost and I'm thinkin' it can't wait," Will mumbled around a mouthful of toast, eyes wide with curiosity.

"Are you still in contact with William?" Killian plowed on.

"William, as in Smee?" Will swallowed and narrowed his eyes at him. "Well, yeah, but not as much anymore. Got out of the game once I moved stateside. Why're you askin'?"

"I can't tell you right now but I need to get in touch with him," he began to drum his fingers on the table. "The sooner the better."

"Look, mate, if you need money you don't need to talk to Smee. I've got some stashed away in case of emergency…"

"No, I have money," Killian said impatiently. "Can you just trust that I know what I'm doing but I need your help?"

"Yeah, sure," Will was watching him carefully. "Killian, if you're in some kind of trouble you don't have to face it alone. I may be a pain in the ass sometimes but I've got your back."

"I know, Will," Killian said softly, touched by Will's blind loyalty. "I'm not in trouble but I'm looking to get someone out of it. I just need to talk to Smee as soon as possible, can you do that for me?"

"Sure," Will said with a shrug, "I got to get to work but I'll have him call you. I can't guarantee it'll be today though."

"Then tomorrow morning at the latest."

Will nodded once and patted Killian on the shoulder as he got up from the table. Killian could hear him as he moved around the apartment gathering what he needed for work.

"Will?" he called out when he heard the front door open. Will's head poked around the corner, "Thanks."

"No big deal, mate," Will said with an easy grin. "I'll just have to use my savings to hire you a lawyer if things go sideways."

Killian cracked a smile as Will winked and left the apartment. Alone with his thoughts he kept drumming his fingers on the table, wanting to write down his ideas but not wanting to make anything that could be used against him. When a knock came at the door he jerked in surprise, wondering who it could be.

For a moment he thought that Gold had sought him out again, to further his agenda and entangle Killian even more. He was already working himself into a state when he pulled the door open, and was therefore unprepared for the person on the other side.

"Emma." Killian breathed, all fight draining from him in an instant. "What are you doing here?"

"We need to talk."

* * *

 **A.N.: Whoo, man. Sorry this got posted way later than normal but turns out when you're on vacation there's not as much time to sit down and write. How about that premier? I got chills, still have them actually.**

 **Little trivia: Anton's last name Velikan is Slovenian for giant (at least according to Google translate).**

 **FYI: Gold is definitely channeling some Dark One, with his lies and manipulations and only thinking of himself. What an asshat.**

 **Next Week: A conversation where both parties are keeping something from the other.**


	20. Chapter 19

**The characters belong to Kitsis and Horowitz and while I'm loving where this season has been going I think it's time to play.**

* * *

The briny scent of the ocean filled Emma's nostrils as she approached the docks. Far above the gulls were crying out as they circled the skies in search of their first meal. It was a cool morning, a reminder that fall had just begun and winter was around the corner. Emma shivered, she had left her jacket back at the studio when she had practically sprinted out of there to confront David.

Walking along the wet concrete, slowly following the painted yellow curb down the shoreline, she desperately tried to think of a way to comply with Gold's wishes and still be able to like herself after.

Neal was a toxic reminder of who she had been before Henry. A teenage runaway who was living on the streets, stealing when she needed food and conning people out of their money just so she could have one night in a hotel room with a working shower. When she had been with Neal he had made it seem like it was all okay, that they were just taking what was due to them from people who already had too much. Emma had believed him, believed in him, no matter how weak his logic had been.

After she'd had Henry, still in prison with a few months left of her sentence, she had begun to see him for who he was. A man who had lied for the betterment of himself, no matter the cost to others, including herself. When she came to that realization that's when she had begun to hate him and the part of herself that still loved him. She had vowed she would do better, for Henry if not for herself.

It had been hard, after her release, not only to find a job but to care for a baby when she was practically a kid herself. Luckily she had been able to find a cheap apartment. It had been the size of a shoebox and smelled of overcooked broccoli but it was something. Finding a job with flexible hours and also willing to overlook her record was harder but she was eventually hired as the overnight waitress at a diner. It had pained her to leave Henry in the care of one of her neighbors, an elderly lady who loved children but had had none of her own, but she had known it needed to be done.

Emma shivered as she remembered the long nights of work and the longer days of taking care of Henry. For the first few months she had cried herself to sleep almost every day, hoping Neal would reappear and cursing him when he didn't. Now he was back and she just wanted him gone but that was no longer an option. Gold had seen to that.

The thing was she had been willing to make allowances for Neal to be in her and Henry's lives. She hadn't been happy about it and she hadn't really thought about what she would have told him but it had been her choice. Gold had taken that freedom and stripped her of it, forcing her to keep Neal around in a more fixed and permanent way.

She had no illusions that she could talk Neal into approaching his father right away. While she didn't know exactly what had happened between the two she knew Neal well enough to know that he had to have a compelling reason for leaving in the first place. Even in the thirteen years since she had seen him last his tendency to run from his problems hadn't changed. The fact that he was planning to head back to New York, despite finding out he had a son, attested to that.

With sudden clarity Emma realized what she had to do to keep Neal in Storybrooke. He had practically spelled it out for her in New York and again when he first showed up at Granny's. Neal was looking to pick up right where they had left off, before Henry and before prison. Before he left her behind and shattered her in the process. If she let him believe she would give him a chance he would stay, fulfilling her deal with Gold but complicating everything else in the process. Well, not really everything, only the things that mattered.

Henry would be confused, not only because she'd spent his whole life practically vilifying Neal but because he could read her almost as well as she could read him. He would know something was off, that she wasn't being fully honest and he would wonder why she was doing whatever she had to do with Neal when she had been much happier with Killian. Even when she really hadn't been with Killian at all.

She turned abruptly towards the water, practically slamming her elbows down on the metal railing in frustration. The thought of trying to explain what was going on to Henry was an agonizing one. If she did go through with it she'd most likely end up keeping the truth from him, for his own good. Emma was ashamed that she was even considering lying to her son but she saw no other choice.

Explaining things to Killian made her feel even worse. He deserved an explanation, especially after what happened on his birthday. If she was really considering the idea of convincing Neal that they could have a second chance then Killian needed to know what she was planning. He needed to know not to give up on her, on them, because she knew she would need him to turn to when it all would be too much. Emma could admit that to herself now. She needed Killian to stay sane.

As she began walking again she realized she had left the working docks behind and was beginning to approach the inhabited section of shoreline. It was nothing more than a couple of blocks of houses, a few apartment complexes, and a fish market that doubled as a small restaurant but Emma somehow knew that's where she had been headed all along. She had seen Killian's truck parked there before, back when she had been avoiding him after the beginning of summer, and she had heard the longing in his voice when he talked about his life on the ocean. It was a solid bet that he lived in one of the apartments near the thing that had been an integral part of his life.

There was one problem, she figured he lived in one of the apartments since she couldn't imagine Will having the income to live in the houses that lined the shore but there were three complexes to choose from, each with at least twenty units. If she was lucky Killian's truck would be parked in the lot of one of the complexes. If she was really lucky the parking spots would be assigned and she'd know exactly which apartment was his. The best luck would be if he was home, willing to listen to her insane plan, and then congratulate her wholeheartedly on how cunning she was.

Then they could both get on her magical unicorn and ride off into the rainbow laced sunset, Emma thought with a scoff.

No, most likely she would find out which apartment was Killian's but he wouldn't be home or he would be but he wouldn't want to talk to her. She wouldn't want to talk to anyone if their roles were reversed, especially since it was her ex that had essentially ruined Killian's birthday and her pseudo-brother that had arrested him the night before. With a sigh she crossed the street and made her way to the first apartment complex.

Emma was trying not to look like a crazy stalker looking at various apartments when she finally caught a break at the second complex. She was walking along the sidewalk of the first story apartments, quickly peering into windows as she passed and feeling like David would be driving up at any time to arrest her for lurking or something, when a door opened and shut across the complex on the second floor. Stopping herself from whooping in excitement she watched Will as he messed with his phone in front of the door with the number twenty-seven on it and moved closer to the railing.

Turning around quickly, Emma pulled out her own phone and pretended to be absorbed in it while straining her ears to hear Will's half of the phone call he had made. She couldn't hear much but Will was a loud talker and a slight breeze was carrying most of his words towards her easily.

"... long time, I know… can't right now, mate, but I do need… not interested… are you going to... no... hundred cashmere sweaters, you dolt… a minute and listen."

Will's voice lowered and Emma strained to hear what he was saying. Abandoning all caution she quickly scurried under the walkway until Will was right above her.

"...told you I don't know. Just call him, he might not be feelin' chatty but I think he'll be happy to talk to you. I gotta go, I'm already late to work. Yeah, yeah I'll think about the sweaters."

Hearing the tread of boots above her head Emma pressed herself against the outer wall of the apartment she was by. If Will's car was anywhere near where she was standing or if he even decided to glance around she would be seen. As she watched his feet and then the rest of him descend the stairs she held her breath and hoped for the best.

"You know, you're not being particularly sneaky. I spotted you the second I left the apartment," Will drawled as he stepped off the last stair and turned to face her.

"I wasn't trying to be sneaky," Emma huffed, cheeks burning in embarrassment.

"Right, playin' with your phone, keepin' your head down, scuffling under the balcony and makin' all sorts of noise. You'd make a lousy thief," he chortled.

"Takes one to know one," she snapped right back.

"Oy, I'll have you know those charges were never substantiated," Will said with a cheeky grin and a wink.

"I thought you were late for work."

"And I thought you were here to talk to the blue-eyed wonder?"

Rolling her eyes she finally gathered her wits and stepped away from the side of the building. Will walked over to a small red BMW and unlocked it. Emma was surprised, not by the car but by the plate which read 'RDQUEEN'.

"Nice car," she observed. "But I thought you'd be driving something a little more…"

"Manly?" Will sighed.

"Green, actually," Emma said frankly. "It seems like it'd be more your color."

"As a matter of fact it is but seeing as this was a parting... well, let's call it a gift for lack of a better term, from my ex I got stuck with the color and the plate. Can't complain too much, still gets me plenty of luck with the ladies," Will said happily as he climbed into the car. Looking over at her he sobered suddenly. "Whatever you came here to talk about go easy on him, yeah? He's had a bit of a rough go these past few days."

"What do you mean?"

"Sadly, not my tale to tell," he trilled with false humor, his eyes still worried. "Now if you'll excuse me I'm off to work."

Without allowing Emma to get a word in he simultaneously slammed the door shut and started the car, driving away before she could dash over to the car and demand an explanation. Blowing out a frustrated breath she glanced up at the door with the twenty-seven on it, wondering if it really was a good idea to be there. Killian had spent the night at the sheriff's station and David had released him only an hour or two before. Will's ominous warning wasn't helping either. She figured she should just turn around and go back to the studio, apologize to Regina for leaving and move on with her day. It wouldn't be too hard to come back later, give Killian time to do whatever he needed to do and give her time to really think about what she was going to tell him.

Ignoring all her logical arguments she climbed the stairs and found herself in front of the door. With only a slight hesitation she rapped her knuckles on the painted grey wood.

There was the sound of a chair scraping on the floor and heavy footfalls approached to door. She let her features relax, not wanting to tip him off right away that something was off about her. It didn't matter because Killian when wrenched open the door the look on his face made her's twist in shock. For a split second he was glaring out at her, furious and defensive, a fire burning deep in his eyes, turning them a dark, navy blue. Then it was gone, snuffed out, leaving him to stare at her confused and somewhat disbelieving.

"Emma. What are you doing here?" He breathed out.

"We need to talk," Emma said quietly, still reeling from his previous expression. "Can I come in?"

"Of course!"

Killian stepped back into the hallway of the apartment to let her pass. As she stepped in she noticed that he was still tense, his knuckles almost white where they gripped the door and his breathing shallow but measured. She wanted to call him out on it but didn't as he closed the door behind her.

Instead of launching into small talk that would inevitably lead to her babbling nonsense Emma took in her surroundings. She was standing in a short hallway, a small table to her left next to a closed door she assumed was one of the bedrooms. Straight ahead she could see a side table and a small, dark brown couch, the living room she guessed, and a pair of glass doors that probably led out to a balcony that overlooked the water. To her right was an open doorway, leading to the kitchen since she could see part of a table and chairs and the corner of the fridge from her spot in the hall.

"Would you like something to drink?" Killian asked from behind her in a tentative voice.

"Sure," she answered, turning to face him but he was already brushing past her and walking into the kitchen.

"There's water, um some juice, beer no it's too early for that. Unless you want a beer. Do you want a beer?" He wasn't looking at her, head bowed over the open door of the fridge.

"Waters fine," she said quietly as she stood in the doorway.

Killian closed the fridge and turned towards the cupboards, opening one to grab a glass and then sidestepping to the sink where he used a small spigot to fill it. He did it all without facing her or even glancing her way. Emma tried not to read too much into it but it was too big to ignore. Something had happened since she last saw him that had him acting like one look at her would turn him into stone.

"Killian, is everything okay?" She asked, willing to endure a moment of awkwardness if it meant they could move past it.

"Everything's fine, just tired is all. Here," he finally turned to face her as he handed her the water and gave her a small smile. He still wouldn't meet her gaze for more than a few seconds. "Don't stand on ceremony, Swan, take a seat."

Watching as he grabbed and filled another glass with water for himself she sat at the table, drinking the water in small sips. The kitchen was small and Killian would have no choice but to either stand at the sink or join her at the table. She was beginning to wonder if he would stay by the sink when he surprised her and pulled out one of the chairs and sat down. The fact that she was surprised at all caused her dismay, there was no way she'd be able to tell him about Gold and Neal when she didn't even know what to expect from him in what should have been a normal interaction.

"I'm sorry about David…"

"How did you know…"

They both started and stopped talking at the same time. Killian indicated she should go first with a slight nod of his head and another small smile.

"I'm sorry, that David got it in his head that you were the bad guy," Emma said with a shrug. "He's a little overzealous when he gets an idea and decides to run with it."

"No need to apologize on his behalf, love, he's already atoned for his sins. He was just making sure that his family was in good hands," he glanced at her quickly and grinned at the glare she was giving him before looking away to the window over the sink. "That's not to say I appreciated the method he went about doing it."

"I think the shiner you gave him left him with that impression."

Emma saw his grin widen slightly and leaned over until she caught his eye. His eyes darted from hers to the window before he let out a sigh and finally turned to face her. She could see him battling with himself, trying to keep too much emotion from showing through but allowing just that to happen.

"Killian, I'm not mad at you, if that's what you think," Emma sighed and sat back in her chair. "I kinda wanted to make David look like a panda when I found out what happened."

He let out a reluctant chuckle, shaking his head, most likely imagining her punching David or just the image of David having to go around town with two black eyes. When his eyes found hers again he sobered, the smile dying on his lips.

"That's not quite what I was worried about but I appreciate the reassurance all the same. Is that why you're here? How did you know where I lived, anyway?" Killian's brow furrowed with the question.

"I came down to the docks for some fresh air," she said in half-truth, electing to slightly alter the answer to his first question. "I saw Will leaving the apartment and I wanted to see how you were doing. You never answered my text and the bouquet I got yesterday was not up to your usual standards."

"Apologies, Swan, but I've been on vacation these past few days. I'll be sure to let Anton know, he'll be more than happy to replace the bouquet or refund your money," he was talking to her as if she were a customer, not at all like the man she had come to know.

"Killian, what's wrong you are acting strange."

Emma reached out and placed her hand over his where it sat on the table. It twitched slightly under her palm but she kept her gaze trained on his face. She thought she saw something break in his eyes, his eyebrows drawing together infinitesimally before he schooled his features into a calm mask.

"Nothing's wrong. Like I said, just tired is all. The beds at the station are a far cry from the one I have here," He quipped with a crooked grin.

Pulling his hand out from under hers he reached for his glass, drinking half the glass as though he hoped it was something else. She tried to wrack her brains for something, anything to talk about that would pull him out of his funk but nothing seemed safe. Asking about his birthday would inadvertently bring up Neal and Gold, the topic of his arrest and David's behavior seemed to have already been exhausted, and she no longer felt the ease they used to have when talking to each other. Suddenly she remembered something that might actually spark a full conversation.

"Henry's really excited to start learning how to navigate by the stars," she said casually but watching him closely for a reaction. "I told him that maybe he could start next week. If that's alright with you."

Killian's eyes widened in surprise but his jaw clenched, the muscle she had noticed when Neal had shown up was ticking once again.

"I don't know, Swan, perhaps he'd be more inclined to spend time with his father instead," he didn't say it in a harsh way but Emma recoiled as though he had.

"What are you talking about? Henry's been bugging me for weeks to say yes and now you're not interested?" Emma felt like she was talking to a stranger.

"It's not that I'm not interested," Killian was looking at her, almost pleading with his eyes. "I just know that Neal has a more rightful place in the lad's life than I do. They both deserve the chance to get to know one another, to truly be family."

He was giving her exactly what Gold wanted, the means to keep Neal in town by stepping back and giving Neal the opportunity to bond with Henry. Without him saying the words she knew what else he was trying to say. Killian wasn't only backing off for her son's sake, but for hers too, to give both her and Henry the chance to let Neal back into their lives in a permanent way.

She wanted to throw her water glass at the wall at the unfairness of it all. Gold's threats were ringing in her head telling her that this was exactly what she came to see Killian for. It didn't matter that he had been the one to present it, even if he didn't realize what he had done. What mattered was that she had been stupid to think that Killian would go along with her plan of trying to keep Neal on the hook, while also stringing him along on the side. It was selfish of her to have even thought of it in the first place.

"I didn't come here to talk about Neal," she started hesitantly.

"And yet, here we are," he retorted, wincing at the sharpness of his words. "Apologies, Swan, my lack of rest is creating a beast of me."

Before she could answer a phone started ringing in another part of the apartment. Killian turned his head sharply towards the sound, looking through a second doorway that opened to another hall that she assumed led to his room, judging by his reaction. He got halfway out of his seat but dropped back down, turning back to stare at her as though he was trying to memorize her face.

"I should go," she said quietly. "You obviously need to answer that and you need to get some sleep,too. We can talk later."

"Emma," he whispered in a pained voice. The ringing stopped and he looked down the hall again, quickly looking back at her. "I know I'm coming off as rather callous and I'm sorry, I truly am."

"But you can't tell me why and it'll all make sense in time?" Emma scoffed, unable to help herself.

"Emma," Killian pleaded but before he could continue his phone started ringing again.

"Get that, I'll show myself out," she said as she stood.

Killian quickly followed suit, knocking his chair over in the process. He gripped her wrist in a firm grasp, not so hard that it was painful but enough to grab her attention.

"I don't want you to be upset. Please, understand that."

"No, I get it. We'll talk later," she gave him a small smile and turned her arm in his hand so that she could squeeze his wrist gently.

Pulling her arm out of his she walked out of the kitchen without looking back. It was only a few steps to the front door and then she was opening it and stepping out onto the walkway. Slowly she made her way down the stairs and away from the building, hoping with each step that he would run after her, stop her and never let her go. She was halfway back to the studio before she let go of that fantasy. Her only hope was that he would be back to himself after he got some sleep and she got some as well. Then they would be able to talk, to straighten things out. The thought brought a small, but contented smile to her face.

It was months before Emma saw Killian again.

* * *

 **A.N.: I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry but this has been planned since pretty much the beginning and there was nothing to be done to change my mind.**

 **In other news I'm going to be taking a short break, just a couple of weeks at most, but I won't be adding a new chapter in the meantime. There are a few reasons but time and quality are the main ones. I want to give you guys the best and recently I feel like I've been rushing to write the chapters and not giving the story the chance to grow like it should. That's not to say I've been posting sub-par work already but it's stressing me out a bit to post a new chapter every week lately.**

 **I'll still be writing during my break but I'm giving myself the breathing room to write the best that I can, not out of obligation but out of love for this story. I'll also still be super active on tumblr (terreisa is my blog for those who don't know) and I do respond to messages on there and on here.**

 **Don't worry about me because when I do come back, Killian will also be coming back to Storybrooke and he'll be faced with some surprises and with a few surprises of his own.**


	21. A Letter for Henry

_Henry never thought he'd be sick of cheese based foods but he is. It might have something to do with the dinner menu of the past two weeks but he won't complain. Not when it's apparently the only comfort his mom can get. Turns out a simple letter might be even better._

 **Originally published on Tumblr.**

 **The characters belong to Horowitz and Kitsis, of course, but it's my turn to play.**

* * *

Henry was bored and beyond tired of eating mac and cheese, or grilled cheese, and he was even sick of cheese pizza. He wouldn't tell his mom that, even if she threatened to take away his PS3. Which she totally wouldn't do, but that's how serious he was about not upsetting her even more. She had been really sad, and kinda angry, since Killian had left two weeks ago. All she had told him was that Killian wouldn't be able to do the sailing lessons and when he kept asking why she would tell him to go do his homework or clean his room or try to beat the boss he was stuck on. So, he had stopped asking and didn't tell her he had beat that boss the week before and she had watched him do it.

His mom wasn't just upset about Killian, Henry knew that. Neal, his dad, which he only called him that in his head if he was in a good mood, had randomly shown up the night of Killian's birthday party. Luckily Henry had already had cake because after the really weird introduction his mom had made them leave, not that he'd wanted to stay. He'd heard enough about Neal, aka Disappearing-Reappearing Dad, to be suspicious of why he had suddenly shown up and what that meant. Ever since that night his mom hadn't been sleeping, he'd heard her moving around the loft really late at night when he woke up from his nightmares of being taken away. She had also started looking at him like he was going to evaporate, or something, and it was all Neal's fault.

The thing was his mom wasn't the only one upset about Killian and Neal but he didn't want to dump his worries on top of hers. Killian had promised to teach him how to sail by the stars like a pirate, which was cool and all, but Henry missed being able to talk to him more. Especially since everyone else he could talk to were already keeping things from him. He had caught Uncle David and Aunt Mary Margaret talking about Neal and his mom when they thought he was in his room at their house and August had left town again, pretty much right after his Shadow Dad had made an appearance. Talking to his mom was out of the question, Henry wasn't that stupid. He just wished Killian had said goodbye before he left.

He had toyed with the idea of texting Killian but he didn't have his own phone and his mom would read whatever he sent and she would definitely read whatever was sent back. Using Uncle David or Aunt Mary Margaret's phone was out too, they would just tell his mom what he was doing and he'd be stuck with the same problem of other people reading what he sent. If he had a moment to himself he would have just jumped on a bus and gone out to Robin's store to find Killian's cousin and get an e-mail address or something. Of course, he didn't have a moment to himself anymore since he was constantly being watched by someone, even Leroy was in on it. Henry thought that Ruby had probably promised him extra bacon to do it.

Henry scowled at his homework, annoyed at both is situation and his school work, which was spread all over the table since he couldn't figure out which assignment would be less painful to do first. He had finished his math problems in class and they'd had a sub in science so no homework there, just another round of old Bill Nye videos. He had his history book open in front of him but he didn't feel like labeling a map with the names of old empires or finally choosing one of them to write a report on. His other option was going over his reading assignment and picking one of the recommended books for to write a book report on. It was a good thing he liked to write because none of his teachers were giving him a choice in the matter.

"Are you going to actually do your homework or are you hoping it will burst into flames?" His mom asked from behind the kitchen counter.

"You know, if we had a dog you wouldn't have to worry about me setting the loft on fire," Henry answered with a grin and what he thought was a hopeful look in his eyes.

"Not really a great argument for getting a dog, kid," she said with a grin of her own, one Henry was glad to see wasn't fake. "So, what do you want to do for dinner tonight? I saw a recipe for this mac and cheese pizza on Pinterest, wanna try it out?"

Henry tried really hard not to roll his eyes, which his mom hated, but he couldn't help it. She had turned into a melted cheese fiend and he couldn't believe that all he wanted was a salad or a plateful of broccoli for dinner. He quickly looked down at his book but she circled the counter and stood next to him, her hands on her hips.

"Something you want to tell me, Henry?" Her voice was stern but he didn't want to look up and see how mad she was.

"No. That pizza thing sounds good. When will it be ready?" He asked hastily.

"Henry?" She was using her warning voice and he finally looked up at her.

She was watching him closely but he was surprised to see she wasn't angry, not really. Sure, her eyebrows were trying to meet each other in the middle and her lips were pursed like she had licked a lemon but Henry knew better. He quickly made the face that had gotten him a new iPod and had almost gotten him a phone, which he still hoped to get for Christmas, and watched with satisfaction as she blinked and softened her gaze. It was worry that had her acting like she was angry and he didn't want her to worry about him.

"If we get a dog can we name him Cap? And then when we get another one can we name him Bucky?" Henry was only half joking but gave his mom a wide smile to hide that fact.

"What if it's a girl dog?"

Henry was flabbergasted that she was playing along. Usually she stopped talking about it right away, going on and on about how it wasn't the right time. He wasn't about to second guess her reasons though.

"Lady Sif, duh," he said and grinned when she gave him a stern look about his tone.

"Not Black Widow or Peggy?" She asked, as she sat down at the head of the table. "Or Gamora or Pepper or Jane?"

"You got their names right!" Henry was beyond happy that she was still talking about getting a dog but also because she must have liked his favorite movies more than she let on.

"We've watched every one more than three times and what kind of woman would I be if I didn't know the names of the badass female characters putting the superheroes in their place?" His mom smiled when he rolled his eyes again. "So why Lady Sif?"

"'Cause she's more badass than the rest! Except maybe Black Widow but that's more of a name for a cat than a dog."

"Language, kid," she rebuked gently and sat back with an appreciative look on her face. "You've thought about this a lot."

"Well, yeah," Henry refrained from saying 'duh' again. "August and Ruby said it's almost a matter of time before I either get a phone or a dog so I've been preparing."

Henry watched as his mom scowled and then rolled her eyes, knowing she wasn't worried or mad at him anymore. Which was exactly what he wanted. He looked down at his homework and grabbed the list of books he needed to choose for English.

"Oh, you got a letter in the mail today," his mom said as she got up from the table and grabbed something from the counter. "I didn't know you were doing a pen pal thing again. Is it for English this time?"

She handed him the envelope, which was nothing special but Henry was confused as he looked at it. It was addressed to him but there was nothing in the upper corner to give him a clue about who sent it. August was the only one who sent him stuff in the mail and usually it was a postcard or some weird souvenirs from wherever he was. The handwriting was nice and Henry definitely didn't know anyone who wrote that nice, not even Aunt Mary Margaret.

"It's not a pen pal," he flipped the envelope over to open it. "But why did you think it was for English?"

"The postmark is from England. I figured you were starting Shakespeare or something," she came up behind him to watch him open it. "If you don't know who it's from maybe I should open it first."

"No, it's addressed to me and tampering with mail that isn't yours is a federal offence," Henry snapped, pulling the envelope away from her reaching hand and immediately feeling guilty when he saw her pull it back back hesitantly.

"I just wanted to make sure it's okay for you to read. If we don't know who it's from we don't know what might be inside," she sounded sad and a little scared.

Pushing away his guilt he ripped open the envelope quickly, before she could stop him. When no ominous smoke poured out or part of a finger dropped to the table he chanced a glance at his mom and saw that she was still watching him warily. He gave her a grin and pulled out the pages inside. There were only two and Henry immediately flipped to the second one, to see who sent it so his mom would stop worrying. He nearly dropped the letter when he saw who it was from.

"Henry, who sent it?"

She must not have seen the signature when he did so she still looked on edge when he looked up at her with a huge smile.

"Killian did."

The look of surprise gave him the chance to turn back to the letter and start reading it from the beginning.

 _Henry,_

 _First I must apologize for unceremoniously cancelling our promised nighttime sailing adventures. Not only was it unfair of me to make such a promise and then renege on it but it was also unfair of me to not explain my absence in person. Bad form, I must say, and for that I am sorry._

Henry snorted as he read the old fashioned way Killian wrote. It matched the handwriting, at least. His mom raised an eyebrow at him but he just shook his head and kept reading.

 _Second you're probably wondering why I chose to write you a letter and how I knew where to send it. Seeing as how our previous form of communication involved you hijacking your mother's phone I figured you'd might find it easier to discuss whatever may be on your mind in this way. It may be slower and severely outdated but I've found that writing things down, whether it be a grocery list or more serious thoughts, can have the effect of calming one's mind whether you're aware of it or not. As for how I knew where to send it I think you know quite well that the seemingly random flowers your mother kept receiving in the mailbox weren't from some random stranger. Unless, of course, you have a secret admirer of your own._

He laughed out loud at this. The only girl Henry knew that might give him flowers was Grace and she spent most of her time mooning over Nicholas Zimmer. She wouldn't stop talking about him when they were both stuck at the studio on Thursdays after school.

 _I'm writing this from a little cafe that has no right to sell anything that might be consumed by a human and yet here I am, trying to eat a scone that was most likely baked two years ago and drinking tea that was brewed using water from the toilet's cistern. The weather is damp and somewhat disheartening but Halloween looms near and the sight of carved pumpkin faces glowing in windowsills as I walk to my flat is a joyous one. Have you decided on a costume yet? May I hazard a guess that it might involve one of Earth's Mightiest Heroes?_

Frowning at the page Henry wondered how Killian could have known they had already bought most of the stuff he needed for his Spiderman costume. He hadn't told anyone what he was going to be, except for his mom since she had to buy everything. Suddenly he remembered that Killian had been at his birthday party, where all the decorations had been done up like the Avengers. It was so obvious, but then again Phantom Dad couldn't even remember when his birthday actually was. Killian not only remembered the party but also what the theme had been.

He looked over at his mom, who had moved to the kitchen, but she wasn't watching him. She was doing something in the fridge, he could only see her hand holding the door open as the sounds of her muttering to herself and bottles being shoved aside filled the loft. He knew his mom had invited Killian to his birthday party to spend time with him, not because a grown man wanted to be at a pool party. Henry didn't quite understand why two people couldn't just be together if they liked each other. Which his mom totally did, he wasn't blind, he had never seen her smile more since she had invited Killian to the party. Then Ghost Dad had to come along and ruin everything. He turned back to the letter.

 _I had another reason for writing this letter. Undoubtedly you're feeling upset about the reappearance of your father, perhaps confused or angry at why it took so long for him to learn about you. Don't blame your mother, she was only trying to make life better for you, but don't blame your father either. Imagine not knowing something as monumental as having a part of you out in the world for a substantial number of years and then suddenly being confronted by that knowledge. He might not have even thought to investigate such a thing. Hard for someone your age to comprehend, I know, but I believe you're up to the task._

 _You have every right to feel whatever it is you're feeling about Neal suddenly being in your life. Just don't let those feelings get in the way of discovering a new piece of yourself. It will take time and perhaps a lot of patience but in the end it is better than living a life of regret for what could have been. Trust me on this._

 _My tea has grown cold and the scone has become almost impossibly staler which indicates that I should end this missive. Take care, Henry, and hopefully this antiquated form of communication is to your liking. If not or if you don't want to continue conversing with me I understand. I hope that is not the case, I've discovered a severe lack of interesting conversation here._

The letter ended with Killian's flowy signature and an address in a place called Reading. Henry vowed to look it up in his atlas and put a sticker there. He used red stars for the places August had been and now he'd get a chance to use the blue ones too.

There was no question that he'd write back to Killian, it was exactly the kind of thing he had been looking for. Yeah, sending a letter was slow but just holding the paper in his hands had made Henry feel better. He would need to get good paper for his own letter and he was about to ask his mom about getting some when he noticed more writing at the bottom of the page. It didn't look as nice as the rest of the letter, almost like Killian had written it in a hurry but when he read it Henry broke out in a smile.

 _P.S. Tell your mother I say 'hello' and that Anton has put aside two of his best pumpkins at the nursery for you. I've already paid for them so you'll just need to pick them up. Happy carving!_

"Hey, Mom!" Henry bounced up from the table and into the kitchen, still holding the letter. "Can we go get some nice paper so I can write Killian back? And we need to go pick up our pumpkins from Anton's Harvest."

"Wait, what?" His mom backed out of the fridge and looked at him with a confused look on her face.

"Killian bought us pumpkins to carve," he said as he waved the pages in front of her face. "And I don't want to send him a letter on binder paper. He says hi by the way."

She looked carefully from his face to the letter with a small smile.

"We'll have to wait until tomorrow to get the pumpkins, kid, Anton's is already closed but we can go get the paper now," she glanced back at the closed fridge door. "How about we stop at the grocery store too and pick up one of those pre-cooked chickens and one of those bagged salads you like?"

"Really?" Henry thought his face would split from how big his smile was. "Can we get popsicles too?"

"It's getting colder every day and you want popsicles?"

"Yeah, the big orange ones."

"Fine, go get your shoes and coat on," she turned him gently by his shoulders, leading him out of the kitchen. "It has to be a quick trip, you still have homework to finish."

"Yeah, sure."

Henry made sure to hastily throw the letter towards the table, knowing it wouldn't make it there and his mom would have to pick it up. He planned on taking a little extra time getting his shoes on. If just hearing that Killian said hi got his mom to smile then he knew reading the letter would be even better. There was no way he wasn't going to write back to Killian now. Not when he was finally getting something different to eat for dinner.

* * *

 **A.N.: I know this isn't quite the Killian chapter I promised but I got the idea in my head and I needed to share it.**


	22. Chapter 20

**It may have been a while and the characters still belong to Kitsis and Horowitz but I think it's about time I let them out to play.**

* * *

"Sir? Sir, we're beginning our descent I need you to put your tray table away and return your seat to its upright position. Thank you."

Killian didn't have a chance to do more than groggily mumble his assent before the stewardess was moving along the aisle, encouraging other passengers to comply with procedure. It had been a torturous, nearly eight hour flight but he was so close to being back in the United States. Only a few more hours by car and he'd be crossing the Storybrooke town line and finally back where he had been aching to return to since he had left almost eight months before.

First, however, there was the matter of making it through customs and hoping that Will remembered when his flight was getting in, plus the hope that he had also driven the truck instead of the laughably small vehicle Anastasia had left him with.

After following the stewardess' orders and subsequently having to find a comfortable position in the upright seat, he allowed his eyes to slide back shut. He felt like he hadn't had a proper night's sleep since his birthday so many months before. It didn't help that he had stubbornly tried to stay on Maine time for the first month that he was in England, believing he could finish up his business and be back in Storybrooke by Halloween. Killian scowled, his eyes still closed, as he realized it was laughable how far beyond Halloween it was.

His scowl softened into a frown as he recalled his abrupt departure from Storybrooke. The days leading up to his leaving had been shit, filled with heartache, frustration, and an almost overwhelming sense of helplessness. He would have stayed, despite all that, but Gold's threats had forced him into a corner that he hadn't been able to see a way out of. At least not one that followed the straight and narrow path.

The morning he had left had been torture. Not because he'd spent the night before in jail but because he had to push Emma away despite wanting to pull her into his arms and forget everything that had happened. Killian hadn't been sure how quickly Gold was willing to act or if he even had someone watching for him to slip up but he couldn't take the chance, not when it was more than his well being on the line.

Emma had completely thrown him off guard when she had shown up at the apartment. He thought he would have had hours, if not a day or two, to come up with a strategy for approaching her, for making her understand why he needed to stay away without divulging anything that could tip her off as to why. She wasn't a fool, she would have known something was amiss but Killian had no intention of telling her what, not then and certainly not upon his return.

That early September morning in his kitchen had been awkward and stilted. She had shown up on his doorstep full of apologies for David's behavior and he'd behaved as if he'd never had a conversation with her. No matter how many times he blamed his poor attitude on lack of rest she had pushed, trying to break through the barriers he had already been trying to build between them. He had been relieved when his phone had started ringing and then immediately felt guilty for feeling that way. That he had needed an excuse to escape from Emma's prying eyes was almost unbearable. She was the sole reason he had begun to open himself to living life again.

It had nearly broken him when had watched her leaving the apartment, his final plea for her to understand leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. The ringing of his phone echoed down the hall but he had ignored it as he had tried to keep himself from going after her. Somehow he had known that he would be unable to see her again if he answered that call. His past dealings with Smee and men like him attested to that.

The rest of that day was a blur of phone calls, packing, and buying a ridiculously expensive ticket to England. He had still been on the phone trying to explain to Anton that he needed to take an undetermined amount of time off when his plane had been taxiing down the runway, earning him several glares from the stewardesses until he hung up. Will had been the only one who knew where he had been going but that was all. Killian couldn't afford to let anyone in on his plans, not when its failure meant the destruction of too many people's dreams.

Smee had been as good as his word. He had picked Killian up from Heathrow, no questions asked aside from inquiring if he preferred to eat on the road or when they arrived Reading. Being half asleep and more than a bit disgruntled at his predicament he had snapped that he didn't care and hadn't said another word until he thanked Smee when he exited the car in front of his flat.

That first night he hadn't been able to sleep, despite the exhaustion pulling at his bones. Being alone in the flat he hadn't stepped foot in for almost two years, with most of the furniture covered in sheets, dust motes flying through the air with the slightest movement, and lying in the bed he had shared with Milah he had only been thinking of Emma. He couldn't get the look of concern out of his head. The one that had fractured into hurt when she asked if he was okay and he had forced himself to pull away from her comforting touch. He hadn't deserved her sympathy, her care, not when he had been backed into a corner by Gold and had already been vaguely planning on leaving Storybrooke.

For the first week there hadn't been much for Killian to do but wait for Smee to contact him. He had wondered, as he roamed the familiar and haunting streets of Reading, if he had made a mistake in fleeing to England so quickly. It was a thought he hadn't cared to dwell on for long, he had wanted to hold on to the belief that he had made the right decision. His worries eerily mirrored the ones he'd had when he had abandoned England for Maine, aside from one glaring difference: Killian ached to go back to the life he had built for himself across the ocean. A vast contrast from the relief he had felt when he had left upon Will's invitation.

One day, early into his second week back, Killian had a mad idea. He had passed a small bookstore, one that didn't draw attention to itself unless you were on the hunt for it, and a bright splash of color had caught his eye. In the window display there had been the usual best sellers front and center, an advertisement of a local author signing their latest book, and other fare but what had stopped Killian in his tracks were none of those. He felt himself grinning and immediately had an idea. While he may have been stuck waiting for Smee to get things in motion he had found a way to pass the time and assuage his guilt, if only marginally.

He had entered the store and bypassed the journals in the window, all with covers honoring different Marvel heroes, and headed to the counter where a bored looking teen had been minding the till. After being pointed in the right direction he had deliberated over his choices for only a few moments before taking his selections to the front and paying. Ten minutes later he found himself in a dingy cafe drinking subpar tea and writing a letter to Henry.

It hadn't been easy, he couldn't truly explain his actions and he'd had to censure himself because he was writing a twelve year old boy but what he was able to write was like a balm, soothing his frayed nerves. He had not only been feeling guilty for leaving Emma with no explanation but Henry as well. The promise to teach him how to navigate had not been made in vain and Killian intended to keep it as well as he could from across the ocean, if Henry was open to the suggestion. That it was also a way to keep in touch, however vaguely or filtered, with Emma was a truth he wouldn't admit to in the light of day.

The first letter had been nothing more than an apology and an invitation to continue communication, as well as a gentle push for Henry to give Neal a chance. Killian wasn't a fool, he knew that while the thought of Emma aligning herself with her ex in any way made his blood boil it was unfair of him to even think about suggesting that Henry stay away. He knew if he'd had the chance to reconnect with his own father he'd take it, regardless of the pain he still felt from the man's abandonment.

Mere days after Killian mailed the letter Smee had finally shown up at his flat, a sheaf of papers clenched in his fist and a nervous disposition that instantly put Killian at ease. He hadn't dealt with Smee as much as Will but he'd had enough interactions with him and his ways to know that the more nervous Smee was the better it was for what needed to be done.

After that it had only taken a month or so to get everything in order. He'd had to fall back into his devil may care persona from the years after Liam's death and it had been surprisingly easy. It was one that inspired confidence with the people he was negotiating with, even if it was a mantle that made him uncomfortable. Killian was no longer that man, the one that did whatever was necessary to forge ahead in the world and whenever he was required to act as much he felt as though he were wearing a heavy leather coat that was two sizes too small. The result of his farce was hard to dismiss when all was said and done, he accepted the realities of that.

From there Killian had thought it wouldn't have taken much longer to be back in Storybrooke. He had even mentioned to Henry in one of his letters that he had been looking forward to spending Christmas back in the States. What he had failed to take into account was the incredibly slow process of securing a visa to return. When he had shown up on Will's doorstep he'd only been in possession of a short stay visa, one that he had blatantly disregarded upon his arrival and that had then had come back to bite him in the ass.

Weeks turned into months as he had waited for a permanent visa and no matter what channels he went through, both legal and not so legal, there had been no hurrying the process. His letters to Henry had continued, even though he'd received a text on Boxing Day from an unknown number which turned out to be a photo of Henry himself, eyes alit with joy as he held the box the phone came in by his grinning face. Killian hadn't needed the multitude of follow up texts to deduce that the phone had been one of the lad's presents. Despite the ease and instant replies he received via text he was none the less pleased that Henry hadn't abandoned the letter writing. It was one of the few joys Killian had as he stalked around Reading waiting for his chance to leave.

Finally, as winter was coming to an end his visa had finally gone through. Wasting no time Killian had put the flat on the market, the final permanent tie to Milah and his life with her, and booked his flight back to America. Smee had been left in charge of finalizing the sale and adding the funds to the necessary accounts. Killian had left with nothing more in his suitcase than he had arrived with, with the exception of every letter he'd received from Henry and the few photos he had left behind the first time. He was finally headed home.

"Ladies and gentlemen we've arrived at Logan International Airport. We'll be taxiing to our gate for the next few minutes so please remain seated with your seatbelts fastened. We would like to thank you for flying with us today."

Killian jerked awake, startled that he had been so deeply asleep he hadn't even felt when the plane landed. If it hadn't been for the combined shuffling of impatient passengers and the captain's announcement he would have likely slept through the deboarding of the plane as well.

Navigating through the airport was a challenge due to his grogginess and trying to get ahold of Will as he walked on flight-stiffened legs. Killian passed multiple clocks as he walked, all indicating it was barely past eight in the morning but he had yet to wrap his mind around the fact that he boarded the plane in London at five that same morning. He already had no patience for the complaining that Will was sure to do once he reached him.

He still hadn't heard from Will as he stepped outside onto the passenger pickup area. All around him were people standing along the sidewalk as cars, taxis, and pedestrians streamed by, waiting for their own ride to appear. Heaving a sigh Killian thumbed through the screens on his phone to call his irresponsible cousin once again.

Then Killian heard a familiar sound, an ancient rumbling that made itself known over the sleek purrs of the engines of every other car around. Turning to look with a welcoming grin on his face he spotted his truck, slowly inching its way towards him, with a delighted Will behind the wheel. Not wanting to waste any time Killian started walking back to where Will had begun to work his way towards the curb.

"About time you showed up!" Will yelled at him through the driver's side window.

"You're one to talk you bloody wanker," Killian mumbled as he and Will reached an open stretch of curb at the same time.

The truck jerked to a stop and Will awkwardly climbed from the driver's seat to the passenger one, gesturing for Killian to get behind the wheel. Killian remained on the sidewalk, annoyed that Will thought he'd want to drive after his flight. Will blinked at his scowl with an air of bemusement before rolling down his window.

"Best get a move on, mate. Wouldn't want the authorities to detain you right when you've found yourself back here."

"You expect me to drive back to Storybrooke after getting up before the sun was up and then having to endure an eight hour flight?" Killian scoffed.

"It's not my fault you decided on a flight that left too bloody early in the mornin'. I'm suffering from lack of sleep too, I'll have you know," Will said as he dropped his chin to his crossed arms that were resting on the open window.

"Why are you lacking sleep? From the picture you sent me last night to complain I know you took full advantage of the room I booked for you. The hotel's only a five minute drive from here."

"Yes, well, that would imply that the full advantage I took was actually sleeping. What fun is that when there was a whole vibrant city at my feet? That and the Sox were in town," Will tipped him a wink and settled back into the seat.

Before Killian could launch into a tirade he heard someone clearing their throat behind him.

"Gentlemen, this is a passenger pick up zone only. I don't care who does the driving but you need to move it along."

Sheepishly Killian looked back at the unamused officer that was watching them. With a self deprecating smile he nodded and slung his bag into the bed of the truck. He was acutely aware of the officer's eyes watching him closely as he walked around the front of the truck and slid into the driver's seat.

"I'm going to murder you, you bloody prat," Killian ground out through a tense smile as he buckled his seatbelt and put the truck into drive.

"Surely not while the scary policeman is still watching us?" Will said jovially as he gave a hearty wave to the man while Killian pulled away from the curb.

Grumbling Killian navigated his way out of the airport and onto the route that would take them back to Storybrooke. Will kept his mouth shut as Killian merged onto the interstate but he knew it wouldn't last long. They'd only spoken a few times during his absence and each time Killian made sure to not reveal too much of what he had been doing. He knew Will was dying to know what the hell had possessed him to make him leave the country for so long and without giving any kind of explanation the whole time.

He had barely merged onto the interstate that would take them home when Will spoke up.

"Alright, Jones, you finally goin' to explain what you've been doing back in jolly ol' England or are you goin' to make me guess?"

Killian's fingers twitched slightly but he kept his face from showing any outward emotion, other than the annoyance he still felt. He only needed to keep his mouth shut for a day or two more.

"I was taking care of things that I should have a long time ago," Killian said vaguely.

"Hmm," Will hummed in mock thought. "And here I was thinking that you were taking care of things a little more recent in their development. Did you happen to know that some mysterious company has bought up all sorts of property in Storybrooke?"

The truck swerved slightly as Killian's hand jerked on the wheel. Darting a quick gaze at Will he only saw a smug grin on his face.

"It's true, mate. Came in out of nowhere and scooped up seemingly random businesses and a couple a residential properties. Gold's been beside himself, crowing around town about how he'd struck the deal of a lifetime and how he'd come out on top of the whole thing. It would be insufferable if the half the town wasn't breathin' a sigh of relief that they were out from under his thumb."

A noise escaped Killian that he wanted to believe sounded like one of polite interest but came off as more of a choking gasp.

"The funny thing is no one has ever heard of this company before, in fact if one were to dig deep enough the bloody thing didn't seem to exist just a year ago. To cap it all off there's word that the owner of this brand spankin' new company is comin' to town to take a gander at his investments. Wouldn't happen to know about that would ya?"

"Is this why you wanted me to drive?" Killian kept his eyes trained on the road but he couldn't help the hot flush climbing up his neck. "Keeping me awake so you could interrogate me over something I know nothing about?"

"Bullshit. Those properties all have ties to you, you berk. The little boat rental shop in the harbor you kept moonin' over when you were in your cups, our apartment building, Granny's. Which was a surprise that Gold let that one go, to be honest. Let's not forget a little dual property right in the heart of town that houses a quaint little floral shop and a certain tattoo parlor. It couldn't be more obvious it was you if you danced naked through town with a neon sign announcing it," Will said sounding offended.

Killian felt the blood drain from his face.

"Does Gold know? Fuck, Will, does he know?" The panic he felt was bleeding into his voice, destroying his farce of not knowing a thing.

"Relax you idiot, I was just tryin' to rile you up," Will said smugly as he settled back in his seat. "No, Gold doesn't suspect a thing. No one does in fact."

"How did you piece it together then," Killian ground out, annoyed he'd been tricked handily by Will.

"Because I know you. That and Smee had me look into a few things for him, city ordinances, bylaws and such."

"That ass, I told him to leave you out of it," he wasn't sure who he was more upset with, Will, Smee or himself. "You're certain Gold has no idea as to who is behind it?"

"One hundred percent, mate, he's been focusin' on gettin' that buffoon of a son to forgive him. That and you've thrown a lot of money his way," Will shifted so he could look at Killian head on. "Where did all that money come from? Last I heard you hadn't won the National Lottery and Smee isn't running off counterfeit bills, too dodgy for him apparently."

Drumming his fingers on the wheel Killian wondered how much to tell Will. While he was glad he didn't have to dance around the truth of his absence there were still some things he was reluctant to talk about.

"I had some savings," he hedged.

"From Liam?" Will asked quietly.

"Yeah."

They didn't talk much after that. Killian needed to focus on staying awake and not drifting between the lanes and he figured Will was dealing with the fact that his suspicions had been confirmed. He was relieved that Will didn't want to dig any further, Killian was so tired he felt as though the truth would spill from his lips regardless of the importance of keeping it to himself.

As he drove Killian drunk in the sights as the interstate led into Maine. There was little traffic on the road, leaving him free to imagine all kinds of scenarios for his reappearance in Storybrooke. The closer they got the more nervous he began to feel but it did have the convenient side effect of keeping him awake.

"The library was you wasn't it?" Will's voice surprised Killian out of his musings.

"What?"

"Some anonymous donor gave the library a couple thousand dollars for new computers and to keep the ball rollin' with its refurbishment. That was you wasn't it?" Will said with mild accusation.

"And if it was?" Killian sighed as he watched the city limits sign for Portland fly by.

"Don't pull that with me, ya nit. It was Robin wasn't it? I told him to keep his bloody mouth shut but no, he has to go and shout it from the rooftops like some bloody town crier."

Will continued to grumble as Killian fought against his laughter.

"I think it's good, you getting back out there. And I don't mean just for a one night stand here or there. Although how you were able to entangle yourself with the librarian of all people," Killian said with a wide grin.

"She helped me out when I was lookin' up stuff for your oh so worthy cause, I'll have you know," Will's verbal jab lost it's effect when he shifted in his seat and asked in a low voice. "So, what did Robin say?"

Killian knew Will wasn't really upset about him finding out about the somewhat new relationship he'd been having with Belle French. Henry had mentioned it offhandedly in one of his letters from a few weeks before. If his suspicions were right Will was more concerned about finally moving on from his ex and letting himself be happy for once, something that Killian knew a lot about.

"It wasn't Robin, but I'll be sure to let him know how quick you were to accuse him," Killian grinned again as Will scowled. "I'm serious though, it's good that you're moving past Anastasia finally. Lord knows you've been through the ringer enough where she's concerned."

"Much like you with Milah, yeah?" Will asked with a raised brow.

"In a way," he took a deep breath. "I don't think I'll ever get over Milah dying, especially with the way that she did. It's taken me a long time to come to terms with that and to be able to move on. I guess it just took the right circumstances to show me that."

"Like Emma?" Will asked with genuine interest.

"Not just her," Killian paused, unsure of how to put it into words. "Moving here, working a good, steady job, having friends, even if it's only you and Robin for the most part, it's all helped. Emma coming along just happened to open my eyes to what I have instead of what I've lost."

"That's quite romantic considering you've only gone on one date with her," Will remarked breaking apart the serious turn the conversation had taken. "You should write some poetry or somethin'. Get some spending cash out of your new lease on life."

"I have plenty of leases to worry about now. I'll get around to the poetry in about thirty years or so."

"When you're all settled in your big house with the white picket fence and a few dozen kids running around the yard? Optimal time, mate," Will snickered.

"Shut it, Scarlet."

Forty minutes later they passed the innocuous green sign welcoming them into Storybrooke. Not much seemed to have changed, from what Killian could remember at least. He had to remind himself that even if the outward appearances of the town hadn't changed he had still been gone for over half a year and a lot could have happened during that time. Such as the fact that he now owned a sizeable amount of the property in Storybrooke, making him an important figure in the town at large. He swallowed as he felt the weight of responsibility settle on his shoulders as he drove towards the harbor and the apartment he technically owned and still shared with Will.

"You don't have to move out you know," Will said as Killian parked the truck. "I haven't touched a thing since you left, except maybe to nick a book or two."

"Trying to impress your girlfriend?"

"Weren't many options for that among your titles, mate," Will shot back without blinking. "Seriously, though, you can stay."

"I know and I appreciate the offer but it's time I stand on my own two legs. I've already got a place lined up and I'll leave you and the lovely Miss Belle to have free reign of the apartment again by next week."

Will flushed but didn't argue. Instead he turned shaking his head and lead the way up to the apartment.

Killian let out a quiet sigh of relief as he stepped inside. Will truly hadn't changed anything, that much he could tell. He could also tell that Belle had spent more than just a few nights over at the apartment. There was a vase of flowers and a couple of potted plants in the living room, several open books on the coffee table, and Killian had noticed a tin of tea on the kitchen counter even though Will vehemently hated it in all its forms. It wasn't much but to Killian it was glaringly obvious that things were getting serious, all the more reason for him to move out.

The sight of his bed almost caused him to moan out loud in relief. He could hear Will trying to talk to him from the living room but he unceremoniously closed the bedroom door, effectively cutting off the offer to go to the Rabbit Hole later. Flinging his bag into the corner of the room he crossed to the bed and practically fell into it, only bothering to toe off his shoes as he rolled onto his side and was asleep almost instantly.

When Killian finally woke up it was hours later and he was still curled into the same position he had fallen asleep in. It took him a few moments to remember where he was and understand why the light filtering into his room was the warm red and orange glow of the sunset instead of the soft grey light of early morning. Glancing at his alarm clock he saw it was only a little after seven but he wasn't entirely sure he hadn't slept through two days instead of one.

Relief flooded him when his phone told him it was still the same day. There was too much he needed to do in the one day he had before it came to light that he was the one buying up half the town. His stomach growled and he pushed aside all thoughts of business as he stretched, groaning as his muscles loosened. He would get to work after he ate.

After a quick shower Killian walked out into the living room, noticing a few more instances of Belle's influence. One being Will watching what appeared to be a documentary about the colonization of Australia. Killian didn't know if he should be amused or impressed. He settled on both.

"Good to know she's been a healthy influence on you, mate," he ribbed as he leaned on the wall separating the kitchen and the living room and watched Will shrug.

"Good to know you're still a functioning idiot. I thought I'd have to get a marching band in here to wake you up," Will retorted without missing a beat.

"You try a transatlantic flight and then a forced two hour drive on little sleep and see how you fare. You're lucky I didn't plow us straight into a tree."

"I had the utmost confidence in your abilities. It's your sanity I'm worried about."

"About that," Killian said as he pushed himself from the wall and approached the couch. "You haven't told anyone about what I've been doing have you?"

"Nah. For one, no one would believe me," Will said laughing but then he paused the documentary and looked over at him in all seriousness. "For another I know this is a big thing for you and a serious mire of legal and business nonsense I can't even begin to understand. Your secret's been safe with me, not even Belle knows."

"Thank you, Will," Killian said sincerely. "It's only until nine a.m. on Monday, that's when everything is officially mine and Gold won't be able to do a thing about it."

"That's the spirit, mate! I hope you're plannin' on rubbin' it in his face. Ooo, I'd like to be there when you do," Will grinned, rubbing his hands together in glee.

"I'll do no such thing, I still believe in good form. If, however, word happened to get around town I'd be helpless to stop it now wouldn't I?" Killian raised his eyebrow, knowing Will would get the hint.

He did.

"I know just the right man for the job. I might be inclined to go to Granny's for breakfast on Monday, care to join me?"

"Why, Scarlet, if you wanted to ask me on a date there's no need for such pretenses," Killian said in a falsetto voice, batting his eyelashes.

"Shut it," Will waved him off and started the documentary again. "Any chance you'd want to go to the Rabbit Hole tonight? I'm meetin' a few of the boys from work."

"Not tonight, perhaps another time, I've got a lot of work to get through before Monday. I'm going to get something to eat, if you'd like to join me."

"Love to but can't. I'm takin' Belle out before she leaves for some conference tomorrow."

"She's leaving and you're going out for drinks with the boys?" Killian was almost appalled.

"I never said she wasn't going to be there for the drinks as well. Don't let the librarian title fool you, mate, she can hold her own," Will said with a wink.

Killian shook his head and waved his hand as he left. He briefly contemplated driving but he wanted to get a feel for the town again. The sun was almost fully set and the air was crisp and chilly, winter still extending its icy fingers into the night. When he caught sight of Granny's patio, lit with the ever present strings of lights he quickened his pace, ready to be inside where it was sure to be warm.

The bell jingled merrily as the door closed behind him. A quick glance around the dining room showed him no familiar faces, even though almost every booth and table were filled. He slid into a spot at the counter still regarding the room when he heard a gasp from in front of him.

"Blue Eyes?" Ruby looked astonished that he was there, almost angry in fact.

"Hello to you too, Ruby," Killian said bemused. "I can see I've taken you by surprise but is there any chance I could get a cheeseburger and fries? Not many quality ones back in England, I'm afraid."

"Been craving Granny's since you left?" Ruby pursed her lips and quirked her brow. "Can't imagine why. It's not like you were leaving anything special behind, am I right? Just because we do serve a pretty good burger doesn't mean it's enough to keep people around."

Killian was taken aback by the venom in her voice. She was angry and he thought he knew why. It wasn't Granny's or the cooking she was talking about. Emma was her friend, probably her best friend, and she had been here dealing with the aftermath of his leaving. Henry hadn't told him much but he had been able to glean that Emma hadn't been the same in his absence. It had given him hope when he first read it, now it filled him with dread.

"But it's more than enough to bring a bloke back," Killian said with quiet vehemence, hoping she'd understood as he had. "Can't say that a day hasn't gone by that I haven't thought of… burgers."

Ruby's eyebrows jumped up in surprise. She looked him over carefully and apparently finding what she was looking for nodded once.

"Want anything to drink with that burger? Granny's still over the moon that you kept her stocked in rum even after the disappearing act."

"A coffee will be fine," he answered with a grateful smile.

Ruby gave him a small smile in return. He knew he wasn't completely forgiven but it was a step in the right direction. His next objective would be to approach David and see if their tentative understanding of each other was still in tact. Finding his way back into Emma's life was going to be a harder endeavour than he had anticipated.

He was lost in thought, sipping at his coffee, when the bells on the door jangled in a discordant way that grabbed his attention. Before he could turn to look he heard Ruby quietly whisper 'oh shit' and when he looked at her she was watching him with sad, wary eyes. With a deep breath he looked at the door and suddenly felt the floor drop out from underneath him.

Emma was standing just inside the diner staring at him with wide eyes. Killian thought she'd never looked better. She was wearing a cream cable knit sweater and her hair was clipped back from her face, allowing every nuance of emotion to be displayed. Her lips quivered slightly and she blinked rapidly, Killian could see her taking quick, shallow breaths.

The bells rang again as the door opened and a man with shaggy brown hair and a smiling, happy face nearly ran into Emma. He said something to her, Killian couldn't tell what over the noise of the rest of the diner, and Emma nodded her head slowly, not taking her eyes of him. The man stepped to the side and Killian could clearly see his hand on her lower back leading her towards an empty booth.

Killian swung back to face Ruby quickly, his heart beating a rough staccato in his chest and blood pounding in his ears. He had been a fool to think that she'd be single or that she could possibly be waiting for him to return. Neal hadn't ever been in the picture, more information from Henry, but the idea of someone, anyone else hadn't occurred to him.

"Hey, you okay?" Ruby's soft voice broke through his tortured thoughts.

"I believe I need to get my order to go," Killian said in a hollow voice.

"Killian..."

"If you would be so kind."

She nodded and walked back to the kitchen. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her gesture towards where Emma must have been sitting but he kept his gaze firmly on his coffee. Ruby returned in record time handing him a styrofoam container, he suspected he might have received someone else's burger and fries. He quickly pulled a few bills out of his wallet and set them on the counter.

"It was good to see you again Ruby," he grabbed the to go box and gave her a forced smile. "Thank you for the speedy service."

"Any time Blue Eyes, glad you're back in town for good," she said it loudly, her gaze darting unsubtly from him to behind him.

Killian didn't know what Ruby was playing at but he nodded his head all the same and stood up from the stool. He kept his eyes on the door, determined not to add to his torment by seeing more of Emma on what was clearly a date. Telling himself it didn't matter, that he had done everything he did to ensure her happiness, didn't help. It also didn't help that he remembered the last time he had turned tail from Granny's, when he had seen her laughing over a meal with Neal. The ache in his chest was the same, all-encompassing and unyielding.

He didn't go back to the apartment where Will was most likely getting ready for his own date. Instead he walked the opposite direction to an alley where he pulled out a set of keys. Unlocking the door he carefully checked to make sure no one saw him slip inside. The sound of his footfalls echoed in the stairwell and then even more so as he stepped onto the landing. Using another key he unlocked a second door and let himself into an empty studio apartment.

With a weary sigh he sat down on the floor, his back against one of the walls. The glow of the streetlights was the only illumination in the room, making everything a sickly yellow color. Flicking open the box he laughed without humor.

"Welcome back, Killian Jones."

Killian ate quietly, staring at the empty room with its blank walls. He'd allow himself to wallow in self pity for one night but no more. There was work that needed to be done.

* * *

 **A.N.: First things first, thank you so much everyone for your kind words of support and your willingness to wait a few weeks for me to get back into my writing head space. I'm jazzed to be back and I definitely have great things in store as we move forward. Kudos to blueMnM415 who had guessed what Killian was up to and made me decide not to keep that little detail in the dark for long. A special shout-out to FlyteNyte who seemed to discover the story during my hiatus and reminded me how much I loved writing the earlier chapters, plus their reaction to Killian leaving was the best thing I've ever received as a review. I still laugh when I think about it.**

 **Next week we'll see just how much Killian coming back throws Emma for a loop, and not just in her personal life.**


	23. Chapter 21

**Yes the characters still belong to Kitsis and Horowitz and while I'm loving what they're doing this season I still think it's time to play.**

* * *

Emma was laying on her bed with her eyes closed, trying to convince herself that she could fall back asleep for another twenty minutes. She had been trying to convince herself of that for the past hour. It was a torture she had gone through only a few hours before when she had gone to bed for the night and also the torture from the night before. Only with her luck would her insomnia return in full force right before the new owner of the building, the one that the studio was in, was due for a visit. They were going to negotiate the terms of the lease and she needed to be in top form, something her insomnia was determined to prevent. The fact that it had come back with a vengeance after she had seen that Killian was back in town was something Emma was trying very hard not to think about.

She had been wholly unprepared to see him sitting at the counter at Granny's as though he'd never left. The first thing she noticed was that he had lost the tan he'd had from working at the nursery, his skin was paler which made the bright blue of his eyes stand out all the more. His hair was longer too, practically falling into his eyes with every small movement. What astonished her most was how much her memory of him had dulled over time, washed out the finer details of his appearance and left a ghost in its wake. Seeing him again, in the bright florescent light of Granny's, sharpened everything again and caused her breath to catch in her throat

It had all bowled over her in the space between one blink and the next and then Killian had turned to look at her. He apparently hadn't been expecting to see her either because his eyes had widened and his mouth had dropped open slightly. His gaze had danced over her and she had felt her pulse quicken and her breathing had been borderline erratic. She had been on the verge of smiling or waving, anything to connect with him again when the bells on the door had started ringing again and her stomach had dropped down to her shoes.

Ruby had been on her case for months about starting to date again. She had practically vilified Killian, insisting Emma was lucky to have dodged a bullet where he was concerned. Emma hadn't quite seen it that way. When he had disappeared she had been angry that he had taken off without even a clue as to where he had gone or if he'd ever come back but it wasn't anger that had kept her awake at night or made her lose focus in the middle of someone's tattoo. It was something close to heartbreak, but it couldn't have been that. They'd only gone on one date, one amazing, fun, practically perfect date that had ended in one of the best kisses she had ever received but that wasn't the point. She had no right mourning what she never really had.

She had met Walsh one bleak, freezing cold Saturday in January when Mary Margaret had insisted they go down to Portland to find a credenza, of all things. Emma had gone grudgingly along, knowing it was Mary Margaret's way of getting her out of her head and also to give Henry the space to spend time with Neal. Henry had been more open to letting his dad in his life, Emma, not so much. Which meant that she usually found something else to do when Neal was back in town and visiting Henry.

They had visited several antique furniture stores and Emma was about to suggest just giving up and going to IKEA when they entered a shop that had Mary Margaret crooning in rapture. It had been a quirky store with the ridiculous name Wizard of Oak and she had nearly walked back out when she saw the kitschy Wizard of Oz mural along three of the walls and the golden brick road painted on the floor indicating where to walk in the store. The only saving grace was that the furniture for sale were beautifully restored pieces and Mary Margaret had finally found what she was looking for. Walsh had been the one assisting them and she only found out he owned the place when he handed Mary Margaret his business card, his eyes never leaving Emma's as he told them to call if they needed anything else.

It had been three days before Ruby pounced, caging her into her work area and refusing to budge until Emma grudgingly told her about the guy from the furniture store. Mary Margaret had apparently exaggerated the interactions with him because Ruby had been almost disappointed by Emma's noncommittal shrug and description of Walsh as 'a good looking guy if you're into the kinda boyish nerdy look'. Ruby had made it a point to bring him up every opportunity she could, especially after he rushed Mary Margaret's order and delivered it himself.

He had asked her out for the first time that day, stopping by the studio for that purpose alone apparently. She had politely declined, after recovering from the surprise of the question and carefully not looking at Ruby who had been frantically nodding her head yes behind Walsh's back. After he left, making sure to drop his card off with Mick, Ruby had doubled her efforts in getting Emma to consider going out with him.

She would have been able to ignore it, he lived an hour and a half away which was far enough to keep Ruby from bugging her non-stop but then Regina had seen his card. Curious she had checked out his website and ended up ordering a new desk for her home office, which Walsh had once again delivered himself. Emma actually smiled at his tenacity when he asked her to dinner but she had said no once again. Ruby didn't talk to her for a full day after she found out and Emma would have tried to make it up to her, if Ruby hadn't also ordered a dining room table from Wizard of Oak, ensuring that he would be back for another try.

When Ruby told her Emma was the one who used her silence to make a point. She couldn't understand why Ruby wouldn't let it drop but also why it was making her so upset. Until Henry received another letter from Killian.

The first letter had come two weeks after he had mysteriously disappeared, after she had convinced herself that he had left because of the thing with David or worse, because of something she had said the last time she'd seen him. Emma had spent those two weeks trying to put on a good front for everyone but she knew that her mask had been starting to slip. Henry had been asking her almost constantly about why Killian wasn't around until he had abruptly stopped asking but instead seemed to watch her carefully. Mary Margaret knew a little bit more about what had happened but not enough to know why Emma's temper was short and her tendency for tears was even shorter.

Then the letter had come.

Henry had been ecstatic, smiling as though Christmas had somehow come before Halloween and brimming with excitement of writing letters that would travel thousands of miles and actually getting a response back the same way. He had convinced her that he needed good paper to write on and she had humored him, especially after she read the letter herself.

Killian continued to write Henry in his absence, each letter giving only a small glimpse into what he was up to in England but mostly asking about Henry's life or offering suggestions of things to read or watch what he thought might interest her son. Whenever a letter came Henry would read it and then would conveniently leave it out for her to read, and she did with an eagerness she kept in check until Henry was asleep for the night. It wasn't the affection Killian had for Henry, so clear to see in his writing, or the small details of his own life that had Emma pouring over the letters multiple times but how he ended every one asking Henry to tell her he said hello. It was only one word, but Emma had come to see it as a small beacon of hope. Hope that he didn't leave because of her and that to some degree she was still in the forefront of his thoughts.

Emma found herself looking forward to Killian's letters almost as much as Henry. She never told Mary Margaret or Ruby about the greeting he sent to her, wanting to keep that little piece of her heart to herself in case she was wrong. They knew about the letters, that Henry was diligent about writing back as soon as possible, but they didn't know that Emma had been writing letters of her own. Ones that held back nothing and never made it farther than her dresser drawer once they were finished. Her friends were understanding, but they had both told her in their own ways that it was time to move on, that she deserved happiness in the present not by holding onto something from the past.

Amazingly, David was the one person who seemed to know what she was truly feeling. He had taken her out for drinks one night in early November, when Mary Margaret was at a board meeting and Henry was with Neal. It was a regular habit of theirs, catching up, playing darts, David musing about the odds of his team making it to whatever big championship was at the end of the season. That time was different, not only because they went to Hog's Head instead of the Rabbit Hole but also because David had sat down her drink on the table and bluntly told her not to give up on Killian. She had opened her mouth to argue or retort or possibly even deny what he was implying but he cut her off with a knowing look and a gentle hand on her arm, repeating what he had said. Emma had nodded slowly, blinking back tears that had come all too easily, and whispered that she wouldn't.

When Walsh had returned to town with Ruby's table and another offer to go out for dinner Emma had paused to think about why she kept saying no. It had been more than half a year since Killian had left and even though he mentioned her in his letters he never took the time to write to her himself. Sometimes she felt as if she was holding onto a ghost, one that grew more insubstantial as days and weeks passed by. She hadn't forgotten her promise to David but she also knew she was keeping herself almost as guarded as she had after Neal. It was one date, something to keep Ruby off her back but also a way to finally decide where she would go from there. So she had said yes, willing to try and see if it was time to move on with her life.

Life had a twisted sense of humor.

Emma sighed, rolling over and glaring at the clock as if it was the reason she wasn't able to get any sleep. She grabbed her phone, figuring it was finally a decent time to call the Nolan house and unload on someone. Whether she wanted David or Mary Margaret to pick up was the real issue, she wasn't sure which outcome she preferred.

"Hmmm, hello?" Mary Margaret's groggy voice answered after only a couple rings.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Emma knew she had, but wasn't going to clue Mary Margaret into that.

"Yeah, but my alarm was about to go off anyway."

Emma knew that too.

"I know it's early but…"

"You needed to talk. Is it about your date last night? How did it go?"

Rustling came from Mary Margaret's end and Emma figured she was either sitting up or moving from the room altogether. Her suspicions were confirmed when she heard the click of their coffee maker turning on.

"Killian was there." Emma said it quickly, like ripping off a Band-Aid.

"Killian was, oh. Oh!" Mary Margaret sounded more alert.

"Exactly," she flopped onto her back and stared hard at the ceiling. "I walked into Granny's and he was sitting at the counter talking to Ruby. It was like he'd never left."

"Was Walsh upset?"

"Why would Walsh be upset? He's never met Killian, he didn't even realize something was off," Emma said, confused.

"Emma, please tell me you didn't keep your date with Walsh," Mary Margaret's voice had a tinge of disappointment.

"Well, yeah," Emma dragged out the word, suddenly worried about what Mary Margaret was getting at. "He's been asking me out for weeks, I wasn't going to just ditch him."

"And you've been pining after Killian for months. Months, Emma!" Mary Margaret's voice had almost risen to a shout and seeming to remember that David was still asleep in the other room she dropped to a harsh whisper. "You would get so frustrated whenever Ruby or I suggested maybe moving on. Now Killian is back and, let me guess, you didn't even say hello and went through with your date even though you desperately wanted to go over and talk to him."

"He actually left after we got there, he had ordered his food to go," Emma told her in a small voice.

She could distinctly remember the way he had abruptly turned to Ruby after Walsh had come into the diner behind her. Not even two minutes later he was off the stool and out the door. Emma hadn't taken her eyes off him until he had walked past the window into the night.

"That's even worse!" Mary Margaret hissed. "That man has been writing to Henry almost non-stop since he left and I can tell you right now that it's not only because he likes him. Henry's told us how he ends every single letter. He's even kept up with the flowers and then there were the pumpkins or that beautiful Christmas tree. Don't even pretend that the gorgeous bouquet that was sitting on your table for weeks after your birthday, even when almost all the petals had fallen off, wasn't from him. And you let him walk away?"

"What was I supposed to do, Mary Margaret?" Emma struggled to keep her voice low too, Henry was still asleep. "I couldn't just walk up to him and ask what he's been doing for eight months and why he left in the first place."

"Why not? You deserve an explanation and he deserves the chance to give one."

"That's not how things work," Emma tried to keep from sounding like a petulant child.

"Emma," Mary Margaret sighed tiredly. "I love you but this has got to stop."

"What are you talking about?"

"I know you've been hurt before, badly, and that you haven't had the best situations in life but you're beyond that now. You can't keep pushing the people that care about you away because then you'll never be truly happy."

"I'm happy, this is the happiest I've ever been. I have a home, a great job, Henry, who's to say I need anything else?" Emma was suddenly regretting the phone call.

"Maybe you don't, but Emma can you really tell me that you've been happy for the past few months? The only time I've seen you smile is when Henry gets a new letter," Mary Margaret said gently. "Look, I need to get ready for work but just think about talking to Killian, okay? You didn't call me this early because he's back, you called because you wanted to know what to do. Talk to him and be ready to listen too. I'll call you later."

"Yeah, okay," Emma said distracted, her mind whirling a mile a minute.

"Oh, and good luck!" Mary Margaret trilled.

"Good luck?"

"Meeting the new building owners today, anyone's got to be better than Gold."

"True," Emma mused. "Thanks Mary Margaret."

"You're welcome. Bye!"

Emma disconnected the call and let her hand fall to the mattress. The conversation hadn't gone the way she had expected. In fact, Mary Margaret had pretty much blindsided her. She couldn't dwell on it at the moment because she needed to get Henry up for school and get ready for her own day.

After her shower and gently cajoling her grumpy son out of bed Emma found herself in the kitchen making omelettes. She rarely made anything more complicated than cereal on a school day but she needed to talk to Henry about Killian and a good breakfast was the best way to keep him in his seat.

"Why are you making omelettes?" Henry asked suspiciously as he slung his backpack over the back of a chair and hopped up onto one of the stools at the kitchen island.

"Can't I make you a nice breakfast every once in awhile?" Emma felt her cheeks heat up and kept facing the stove so Henry wouldn't see.

"Yeah, but you've got that landlord thing at work today and Killian's back in town so I thought you'd be dealing with that, or something," Henry said as though he was commenting on the weather.

Emma almost dropped the spatula from her suddenly numb fingers. She took a deep breath before turning to see the smile on Henry's face.

"You knew Killian was coming back?" The question came out almost breathless.

"No," Henry's smile slipped a bit and he tilted his head to watch her. "He sent me a text last night saying he was. He also said he saw you at Granny's, with a guy."

Emma felt her blush returning and scowled at the fact that her preteen son seemed to be about to give her the same lecture she'd gotten from Mary Margaret.

"You knew I was going out last night. I'm sure August didn't exactly keep quiet about it being a date," Emma paused. "Wait, you've been texting Killian? Since when?"

"The whole time?" Henry said puzzled. "But you knew I used your phone to do it."

"That was before. You've been texting him since he left? What about all those letters?" Emma had gotten him a phone for Christmas and now she was mildly regretting it.

Henry blushed, suddenly finding the counter very interesting.

"The letters were fun but you were reading them too," Henry shrugged and looked up at her quickly before training his gaze back on the counter. "There were some things I wanted to talk to him about but I didn't want you to worry."

"Henry."

Emma remembered she had been in the middle of making breakfast and turned around to shut off the flame and shoved the pan to another burner. She circled the counter and sat on the stool next to Henry.

"Is this about your dad?"

He shrugged again but didn't say anything. Emma sighed, wondering idly if anything else could wring out her emotions faster than her morning had so far. She gently placed her arm around his shoulders pulling him close.

"You know you could have talked to me, or David or August," Emma felt him sigh and realized why he hadn't done that. "But I'm glad you had someone to talk to that's kind of gone through the same thing."

"He told you about his dad, too?" Henry looked up at her with wide eyes.

"No," Emma had no idea about what happened with Killian's dad but it wasn't hard to guess with the way he'd taken to Henry, and how Henry adored him. "So you've been writing letters and texting Killian. Anything else you two have been doing? Sending smoke signals or messenger pigeons?"

"Pfft, no," Henry laughed, shaking his head. "But now that he's back in town he wants to finally teach me how to navigate! Can I? You said yes before."

She hesitated, knowing how important it was to Henry but also knowing how much more complicated things had become since she had said yes the first time.

"We'll see, kid," she squeezed his shoulder before getting up from her stool. "Alright, what kind of omelette do you want? Cheese?"

"No!" Henry practically shouted at her. He gave her a sheepish smile, "I mean, can I get bacon in mine?"

"It's going to be the precooked kind, we're cutting it close to your bus getting here."

"That's okay, you can make it up to me tonight!"

Emma got Henry fed and to the bus stop on time but it was a close thing. He had spent almost the whole morning recapping how his evening with August had been and wondering how soon he could get out on the water with Killian. She had smiled at his enthusiasm but hoped, for his sake, that it wasn't an empty promise and that Killian wouldn't pull another disappearing act.

Avoiding Granny's she stopped for a cup of coffee at the little bagel shop that had recently opened. It wasn't the best coffee but there was little to no chance of running into Killian there, she wasn't ready to deal with him yet.

As she walked to the studio she noticed that Leroy seemed to be tearing through town with another piece of gossip spilling from his lips. He was heading away from her at least, she was in no mood to humor his loose lips. She needed to focus on keeping her mind on the meeting with the new building owners. Regina had told her that she was in charge of any negotiations, if it had to come to that.

Entering the studio and finding it empty, Emma realized she was early. She usually spent a good amount of time talking to Granny while she waited for her coffee, sometimes indulging in some coffee cake if she had skipped breakfast. It was for the best that she hadn't gone to the diner, she could spend her extra time preparing, not wanting to get duped into anything like she had with Gold.

"You know sometimes I wonder if you ever listen to me."

Emma bit back a groan as she turned around to look at Ruby who was walking towards her with a look of fond exasperation on her face.

"I did, I finally said yes to Walsh and look what happened."

"Exactly, I also told you last night to go after Blue Eyes. If you had maybe you'd be in here trying to tame your sex hair and not acting like a big grump," Ruby said bluntly as she pulled her chair from her station and planted herself in Emma's.

Emma rolled her eyes and sat down in her own chair. After Killian had left Granny's the night before Emma had excused herself and practically sprinted to the hallway leading to the bathrooms. Ruby had already been waiting for her, arms crossed and tapping her foot. They'd had a quick but intense argument about her going after Killian, Emma ending it when she walked away in the middle of one of Ruby's sentences and going back to her table with Walsh. Ruby had refused to serve their table, getting one of the other waiters to take care of it.

"I'm so sick of your ups and downs when it comes to _my_ life, Ruby," Emma said forcefully. "You were back and forth about Killian all last summer and then when he left you made it very clear that he was the villain of the whole thing. Now you're trying to get me to start something back up when I don't even know what the hell happened to make him leave and after you've spent months trying to get me to 'move on' and 'find something better'. Guess what, I don't need you meddling in things that were better left alone."

"You're right, I haven't been Killian's biggest supporter and I haven't been the greatest friend to you since he left but I couldn't bear seeing you so sad, Emma. I've never seen you like that and it was easier to blame it on the guy that wasn't there instead of focusing on how much he hurt you. I'm sorry," Ruby said it with a quiet vehemence and grabbed Emma's hand, squeezing it tightly. "Just believe me when I tell you that you should have gone after him last night. I don't think he left because he wanted to."

"What? What do you mean?"

Before Ruby could answer they heard the wind chime attached to the door start tinkling and watched as August and Jefferson walked into the main part of the studio. Emma gave Ruby a look that said they'd talk later. She didn't need to give either of the guys a reason to rile her up before her meeting, she was riled up enough as it was.

Ruby glided back to her station and Emma turned to her own desk, pulling her file of the studio's financials and past lease agreements toward her. She'd been collecting the information since Gold had announced that he was in the final stages of selling the building back at the beginning of December. It had come as a blow, but it wasn't unexpected since she hadn't even tried to keep her end of the deal.

Neal had stuck around for about a week after Gold had initially threatened her but she hadn't been able to put her heart into the act. Her past with him was too painful to ignore and with Killian's disappearance she hadn't seen a reason to let Gold's intimidation attempts worry her. Gold hadn't been bluffing, after Neal left for New York with promises to come back to visit Henry but not his father the sale of the studio had been announced. The owners of CB & EJ LLC had been the buyers, they had already snapped up a bunch of other properties in town. The most shocking was that Granny's Diner had been one of them, Ruby and Granny had been only a few years from paying off their mortgage completely.

It had taken a few months for all of the transfers of deeds and contract negotiations to be finalized but the time had finally come for Queen's Quills' fate to be decided. Regina had been a nervous wreck for days, snapping at anyone that tried to talk to her and barricading herself in her office for hours at a time. When Robin and Roland had stopped by one day to take her to lunch she had only gone with them because Emma had insisted on it, refusing to move from the middle of the desk where she had planted herself when Regina had left to greet her husband and step-son.

The sound of clicking heels broke Emma's concentration. She looked up to see Regina walking towards her office at a brisk pace wearing what appeared to be a new dress.

"Emma, my office, now," Regina called back over her shoulder, not even bothering with a hello.

"Good to know she's not freaking out completely," Ruby said sarcastically as Emma stood up.

"She's put everything into this studio and now it could all start collapsing if things don't go the way we need them to. I think you'd understand that," Emma stated pointedly.

"I do, but Granny's a tough lady. She won't let the new guys push her around. I'm just sad I didn't get to watch it happen," Ruby pouted, but her eyes were glittering.

"Oh, shit," Emma felt the blood drain from her face.

"What? What!"

"I was supposed to be at Granny's this morning when the new owners came in," Emma whispered frantically. "They're meeting with all the businesses today and Granny's was first, then they're coming here. Regina wanted me to get a read on them to see what we're dealing with."

"Well, looks like you blew that one," Ruby stage whispered back. "Better go face the firing squad."

Emma stuck out her tongue, childish but, oddly, it made her feel a little better. Walking through the studio she wondered if they'd be able to find a space that was great as the one they had if things didn't go in their favor. Even if they did there was a good chance it was owned by Gold and they'd be back to the hell they were in before. Shaking the morose thoughts from her head she entered Regina's office and sat down.

"Good to see you made an effort this time," Regina said as she assessed Emma's outfit.

She hadn't gone as far as Regina had, in her form fitting rich blue dress and ubiquitous stilettos. Instead she had chosen a black skirt that hugged her hips and flared out slightly around her thighs, a blouse that, while being plaid, was still nice, and she had chosen to wear black tights but still wore her boots. No need for the new owners to get a wrong impression of who she was.

"Figured they're more deserving of it than Gold was."

"Well, are they? What exactly are we dealing with here?"

Regina steepled her fingers and rested them on her lips, ready to deconstruct everything Emma said. Emma wanted to be anywhere but there, on the verge of disappointing and pissing off Regina.

"I don't know," she mumbled but kept her eyes on Regina's.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Regina's nostrils flared. "We agreed that you would be at Granny's to help us get ahead on what might happen today."

"I know, I forgot," Emma said with a wince, ready for a verbal tirade.

"You forgot? What the hell could have happened to make you forget something that important? Everything, everything we have is invested in this studio," Regina swept her arms out, indicating the building. "We could lose it all today because you forgot."

"Regina, it's not like I missed our meeting with them," Emma said placatingly.

"No, but we don't know anything about these people. At least with Gold we knew the devil we were entangling ourselves with. We have nowhere to go if things don't work out. Storybrooke isn't exactly overrun with open business space and ones that can accommodate us are even harder to find," Regina drew in a deep breath through her nose. "So why did you _forget_ to go to Granny's this morning? You go there almost every morning, even when it's not important."

"Something happened over the weekend that I didn't expect. It kinda threw me off guard," Emma said, dropping her gaze to the desk and hoping her vague explanation would be enough.

"Killian," Regina breathed out, shocked.

"Yeah, it was," Emma agreed absentmindedly. Then her eyes shot up, "Wait, how did you know that Killian was back in town?"

Regina wasn't even looking at her, instead focused on the doorway behind her. Emma turned around, wholly unprepared for the sight that greeted her.

Killian was standing in the doorway, a slim leather briefcase in his hand. He was wearing a dark blue, almost black, suit with a crisp white button down shirt under his open jacket and no tie, the top button left undone. He hadn't shaved, there was a few days of scruff along his jaw, but he had ditched the eyeliner and trimmed his hair so it wasn't quite as long as it had been when she had seen him only two days before. Emma thought he'd never looked better.

"Ladies, shall we get down to business?"

* * *

 **A.N.: Just take a moment to let the image of hot business man Killian to soak into your brain. Ah, it's a glorious thing that I might desperately need at some point in the show, no matter how out of character it might be.**

 **Next week we'll see just how much of a business man Killian can be.**


	24. Chapter 22

**Just so you know I don't have any kind of idea how businesses, building ownership, leases, deeds, or contract negotiations work but I did my best and tailored it to work for the story. I'm sorry if I made some kind of basic mistake but at least I own up to it.**

 **The characters are still so much the property of Kitsis and Horowitz but I can't help it if I take them out to play.**

* * *

Killian stood over his bed with his hands on his hips and wondering what the hell he'd gotten himself into. His jacket was carefully laid out near his pillow, freshly pressed and looking more like a shroud of chains than expertly bound pieces of material. The various multicolored ties strewn across the rest of his bed resembled snakes, ready to strike and bring him to his knees. He hated wearing suits.

Running his hand through his marginally shorter hair he stared down at the ties hoping that one would magically pull itself from the others and knot itself around his throat. He wouldn't protest too much if it happened to be in a hangman's noose.

After his lonely meal in the empty apartment, one of the many doors that opened because he now owned the key, he had returned to the one he shared with Will and worked late into the night. While his lawyer had handled most of the negotiations with Gold, Killian knew that he'd need more than his good looks and charm to make sure his new tenants trusted him with their businesses and homes. He spent most of his time, much as he had when he was stuck in England, reading over the files he'd compiled on the people, their different businesses, financial histories, and his own notes on how to move forward as their landlord.

He wasn't an idiot, he knew that most of the people he would be talking to would listen to his words and then proceed with how they'd done business for years. There was no business degree to back up what he would be saying and while they were probably relieved to no longer be at the mercy of Gold's whims it didn't mean they were going to fall to his feet and follow his lead. Really, all he had to concern himself was with whether or not they paid their rent on time but that wasn't his style. Killian wanted to show that he'd found a worthy purpose for his life, that he had become the man he was meant to be, one that would make everyone he'd ever lost proud.

Even though his body was still on England time and he had stayed up well past midnight working, he had gotten up early the next day. Some of it was spent getting in touch with the few friends he'd made before, sparing enough time to go to lunch with Robin and later helping Anton repot some Easter lilies that remained after the holiday had passed. It was those little normal things that kept him grounded during the chaos of the rest of his day, whether he was on the phone his lawyer, arguing with Smee via email, or negotiating with the dry cleaners to get his suit cleaned as quickly as possible.

He had half hoped and half dreaded running into Emma again. It was almost inevitable the way he had been running around town but he hadn't seen even a glimpse of her yellow bug or a flash of her flaxen hair. In the end he was relieved. She had a way of pulling truths from his lips with just a quirk of her brow or a twist of her lips and he couldn't have that,not so close to everything being set. He was a little disappointed he hadn't had a chance to see Henry and had to settle for a text, letting the lad know he was back in town and ready to impress his sailing knowledge upon him. Henry's more than enthusiastic response helped calm him enough to spend the rest of his evening reading instead of working.

"Don't wear a tie," Will advised from behind him.

"Why should I be taking fashion advice from you, mate? Your idea of looking nice is wearing a shirt that doesn't have the name Locksley stitched into it," Killian said without turning around, bending over to pick up one of the ties.

"I've been improvin' my wardrobe, I'll have you know, and if you want to look like a bloody ponce then go right ahead and wear a tie. Especially the one in your hand," Will said with mock approval as he sidled into the room, leaning against Killian's desk.

Killian looked down at the dark maroon tie for a moment before he let it slide through his fingers and land on the others. He scrubbed his face in his hands, putting a slight pressure on his eyelids until he felt the pressure behind them abate. With a sigh he dropped his hands and let his gaze fall back to the bed.

"What about this one?" He asked, holding up a skinny black tie.

"Better, but I'm tellin' you don't wear a tie," Will said emphatically.

"And why not? I need to make in impression with these people," Killian said with what he feared sounded like desperation.

"That's exactly my point, mate," Will stated calmly launching himself off the desk and grabbing a handful of ties, shaking them in Killian's face. "Whether you like it or not you've already made an impression. They either already know you or they've seen you around town enough to recognize you on sight. Wrappin' yourself up in a fancy bow isn't going to change that."

Swatting at the ties Will was taunting him with Killian scowled and looked back down at the ones still on the bed.

"No tie?"

"You didn't even bother shavin'. What difference would a tie really make?" Will asked with a cheeky grin, tossing aside the ties.

"Shut it, Scarlet," he grabbed his jacket and then his new briefcase off his desk. "I can see by your less rumpled than usual appearance you're ready to go. Are you sure he'll be there?"

"The man can't live without his daily rasher," Will scoffed as he walked out of Killian's room. "He's going to end up with a heart that's more bacon grease than human tissue."

Will was right, Leroy was sitting at the counter of Granny's halfway through his meal, when they arrived. Killian allowed himself a small satisfied smile before removing his jacket and sitting in one of the booths, Will doing the same. They ordered, there was still some time before he could make his move, and made small talk while they waited.

Killian only half paid attention to his food as he ate and even less to Will, who had started rhapsodizing poetically about his time with Belle. It wasn't that he wasn't happy for his cousin, but he could only take hearing that she was 'bloody brilliant' for so long. Instead, he focused on the numerous meetings he had scheduled for the day. The most daunting of which was the one he had scheduled right after his one with Granny Lucas. He wasn't quite sure he was ready to face the ladies at Queen's Quills but he knew it was better to have it done with as soon as possible.

"... and I told her that you could only find it in Wonderland but Oz is where you want to be when you use it," Will's voice broke through Killian's thoughts.

"What the hell are you talking about?" He asked, thoroughly confused.

"If you were listening you'd know," Will said seriously. "Get outta your head, mate, and relax. Worst thing that'll happen is you'll fail miserably and lose everything. Not to mention send everyone you think you're helping onto the streets or right back into Gold's clutches. No pressure."

"As always your words of wisdom have done wonders, you berk," Killian said with a tight smile.

"Just keepin' things in perspective. I believe it's about time, yeah?"

Will looked up at the clock and back to Killian with his eyebrows raised. Killian glanced at the watch on his wrist and saw that it was two minutes to nine. Right on cue, Granny Lucas came out from the kitchen and scanned her dining room from behind the counter. He knew she had most likely been watching from the serving window the entire time, waiting for a stranger to enter her restaurant.

"So where are they?" Leroy grumbled from the counter. "A man has to get to work you know."

"I don't see why you're still hanging around," Granny snapped at him. "They said they'll be here at nine but that doesn't mean that they'll be here on the dot. No one's seen them yet so they're probably driving in from Portland or Lewiston."

"Can't see why they didn't stay in town, the tourists aren't hoarding all the rooms yet," Leroy pointed out, swiveling on his stool to face the door.

"Perhaps they already had accommodations elsewhere that suited them better," Killian said in a casual tone, sipping at his coffee and hoping no one but Will noticed the slight tremor in his hand.

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes," Granny said with a smile. "Here I thought Ruby was telling one of her stories when she said she saw you the other night."

"Alas, love, I'm no story this time but perhaps this will make an interesting chapter in one," Killian winked, smiling when he received an eye roll in return.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Jones. As much as I'd like to talk I've got a meeting with some people this morning," Granny looked at the door. "Although they're really testing my patience, being late."

"According to my watch I'm right on time."

Killian made a show of wiping his mouth on a napkin and stepping out of the booth, his jacket over his arm and briefcase in his hand. He kept his eyes on Granny but could see Leroy turning slowly to look at him and Will shaking his head in his periphery. Granny looked stunned for a second before she put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at him.

"I guess you'll need to come back to the office with me then," she said with a nod of her head towards the back.

"Lead the way Ms. Lucas," Killian said extending his arm to open the way for her.

"You stop that right now," she growled. "It's Granny or Ma'am or you can just see yourself right back out that door. Dressing up in a suit doesn't change a thing but I suspect you're about to tell me something else you've done does."

Before following her he made sure to give Will a small nod. With another amused shake of his head Will got up from the booth and made his way to the counter. Killian turned to walk to the back of the restaurant, only hearing the beginning of Leroy's string of questions before the swing of the door cut him off.

Granny led him through the kitchen and into a small office. The desk was nothing more than a card table with a laptop on it and the only seats available were two metal folding chairs and one more comfortable looking leather computer chair. Killian placed himself on one of the cold metal seats as Granny situated herself in the leather one, which creaked slightly as she settled.

"Alright, Jones, spill," Granny ordered as she crossed her arms and regarded him shrewdly. "You're part of CB & EJ? What the hell possessed them to buy up half the town? Why this place, we're almost in the clear on our mortgage."

"I'm the sole proprietor of CB & EJ and my reasons for what I've done are my own," Killian kept his face impassive as Granny narrowed her eyes at him. "However, I became aware of a situation during my search for viable properties and I had no choice but to act."

Leaning over slightly he pulled his briefcase into his lap and opened it. With slightly nerveless fingers he pulled out a thick file and handed it over to Granny. She pursed her lips but took it from him, casually looking through the papers inside. He knew she found what he'd also seen so many months before when her eyes widened and her eyes shot up to his.

"That lying snake," she grit out, gripping the papers tightly in her fist. "He was never going to let me get out from under him."

Gold had planned on forcing Granny to take a second mortgage on the diner, ensuring that not only Granny would be paying him but whoever took over the diner after she retired, which was most likely to be Ruby. Killian had only found out through some of his shadier contacts what Gold intended to do and had quickly come to a decision he had been contemplating on for weeks.

"I'm afraid not," Killian took a deep breath. "That isn't the entire reason I bought your diner, even though it was a major influence."

Granny's gaze went from blazing with anger to knowing in an instant.

"You bought it to make Gold think that this is the real prize. If you fought him hard enough and long enough for the diner he wouldn't realize you were after something else," Granny smiled and turned to reach into a box behind her still talking to him. "Looks like you were successful on both accounts. Those ladies over at Queen's Quills deserve a bit of good news."

Killian spluttered, trying to formulate some kind of response. Will knowing his motives was bad enough but Granny figuring it out was worse, and far more embarrassing. He was still struggling when she turned back around with a bottle of rum in her hands and two glasses.

"Bit early isn't it?" He managed.

"Hmph, one glass won't kill you, Jones," she harrumphed. "Beside's I want to be the first to offer you a celebratory toast."

"In that case, perhaps you should look at the last page of that file," Killian suggested as he took the offered glass.

She glanced at him suspiciously before turning back to the pages she had dropped to the tabletop. He sipped on his rum politely as she rifled through until she found the one he had indicated. Her eyes widened as she read and when she looked up at him he was amazed to see they were lined in tears.

"Jones, you can't be serious," she said breathlessly. "There was still five, maybe six, years left. That's a huge profit you're losing out on."

"I didn't buy the diner to keep you under my thumb, that's Gold's way. The way I see it, it was bound to happen soon and this way I won't be relying on that money coming in more than I should. The deed to the diner is yours, outright."

For a second he thought she would launch herself across the table and pull him into a hug. Instead she took a healthy swig from her own glass and grabbed a random piece of paper from the ones in her hand and slapped it face down in front of him on the table. A pen quickly followed.

"What's this, then?" He asked, confused.

"Write down any names you want," Granny waved her hand at the paper. "As many as you want. They'll never pay for a meal here again."

Killian stared dumbly down at the blank sheet in front of him. He hadn't expected anything in return for what he'd done.

"I couldn't do that," Killian balked.

"Yes, you could. I'm telling you to," she said in a tone that brooked no nonsense. "Hurry up, I'm sure I'm not the only one you're meeting with today."

Glancing at his watch he saw that, indeed, he had only ten minutes before he needed to be at Queen's Quills. Knowing he wouldn't be leaving until at least one name was written on the paper he quickly wrote down the few who truly deserved it. Sliding the sheet back to Granny he drank down the last of his rum.

"That's it? Five? Well at least you're not the type to take advantage," she said mulling over the list. "Will and Robin, I'll include Belle and the rest of Robin's family, Anton, he doesn't have much family here but if they're ever in town they'll never starve. Henry? Well, I guess a growing boy's gotta eat but if he cleans me out of bacon then you'll have to be the one to answer to Leroy. And Emma, of course, but she practically eats here for free anyway despite how clever Ruby thinks she's being. I'll let the staff know."

"If you'd be so kind as to wait a day or two?" Killian asked, ignoring the drop his stomach had taken when Granny accepted the inclusion of Emma's name on the list as par for the course.

"Still keeping your cards close to the chest? Fine, but Gold will discover it's you behind it sooner than you think. You should have waited until Leroy was out of here before announcing yourself," Granny said with a grim look.

"That was actually my intention. There's no faster way to spread news through this town and what better way for Gold to find out he's been duped than through the town crier?"

"You have a better head for this than I thought, Jones," Granny said, laughing merrily. "Oh, if only I could see the look on Gold's face when he hears the news."

"I don't envy being the messenger in that situation, I can tell you," Killian hesitated, needing to leave but there was a burning question on his mind. "My… affection, for Emma, is it really so easy to see?"

Granny stared at him for a second before erupting in another volley of laughter.

"Oh, Jones, anyone with eyes can see how you feel about that girl," Granny said, chuckling. "Except Emma herself, of course, but that's not what you're really asking."

"It's not?"

"No, you want to know if it's obvious to everyone that you've gone through all this trouble just for her," she said bluntly. Looking at him over her glasses she continued, "It won't be to the majority of this town but to the people that know either of you at all it will be. Watch out for Gold, he'll dig deep and tenaciously to find something to undo it all when he finds out. And watch out for Emma, she doesn't seem to see what's right in front of her face and she pushes back, hard. Don't let it fool you. Now go, or you'll be late."

Killian stood up in a daze. He had hoped to have a clear head going into his meeting with Regina and Emma but there was no hope of that now. Granny stood with him, a look of sympathy on her face. She held out her hand and he took it, her grip solid in his. They shook, a gesture to conclude their meeting, and with a gentle squeeze Granny let go.

He walked out of the office and back into the diner still mulling over what had been said. If all his meetings were as head twisting as that one had been he was in for a long and tiring day. A whole different set of patrons were seated in the front, Will and Leroy long since gone, and more than a few of them looked at Killian with more than just a passing interest. Word had been spreading fast.

Pausing to place his briefcase on the counter to put on his jacket he heard snippets of murmured conversations behind him. His name, paired with Gold's, were what he could discern from the buzz but nothing about Emma or Queen's Quills. Granny had been right about that. With a final nod at Granny, who was watching him from behind the counter, he left the diner.

The walk to Queen's Quills was uneventful. No one stopped him to ask questions but he received more than a couple of looks of interest as he walked down the street. He sighed, wondering if this was how he was going to be treated now that he was only second to Gold in property holdings in Storybrooke. As long as the looks weren't ones of fear then he figured he could get used to it, even if he longed for the days where no one really knew who he was.

A windchime tinkled delicately as he entered Queen's Quills. He had never been in the studio, no reason for him to be since Anton's had a boy for their deliveries. There was a desk, with no one behind it, in front of a wall that separated the entrance from the rest of the studio. Leather bound books were attached to the walls, open to various pages of what Killian determined to be all kinds of tattoos. He walked over to one flipping idly through the pages, waiting for someone to appear.

"Oh, geeze, I'm sorry," a male voice said, accompanying the renewed sound of the windchimes. "I just went to get a coffee but the wait at the bagel shop was horrible. Everyone's talking about that CB & EJ guy."

Killian turned around with his eyebrow raised. The man was in his twenties, light brown skin covered in seemingly random tattoos, and dark brown eyes that widened suddenly as he took in Killian's appearance. He blanched and Killian had to bite back a smile.

"Oh, shit, it's you," the guy whispered, then winced. "Shit, don't tell Regina I wasn't here to greet you. She'll keep me off tattooing for a month."

"You're secret's safe with me…"

"Mick Santiago," he supplied, some of the terror leaving his eyes. "Um, they told me to send you back as soon as you got here."

"Then to the back I shall go," Killian said with a smile, hoping to put Mick's worries at ease. "If you'd be so kind as to direct me."

"Oh, sure! Just straight through the studio to the back. Go down the hallway and Regina's office is the only door on the right, the left one will just take you outside," Mick's hands mimed the directions as he explained, reminding Killian of a flight attendant.

"Much obliged," he said with a smile.

Walking around the wall separating the studio from the front he was unprepared for the sets of eyes that were on him the moment he came into view. Ruby, August, and Jefferson were all turned towards him, not masking their open curiosity to see the man who was now their landlord. Upon seeing him their eyes had widened and, in August's case, mouth dropped. His steps faltered under their scrutiny but he kept moving forward.

"Blue Eyes?" Ruby whispered, still apparently in shock.

"Under these circumstances I believe Mr. Jones is more appropriate," Killian said smoothly without breaking his stride.

"Good luck, Mr. Jones," she called after him. "You're gonna need it."

Ignoring her he walked to the back and turned down the hallway leading to the office. Making sure he wasn't in view of the studio he stopped and took a deep breath. He could hear voices down the hall, one a bit louder than the other but both too quiet to understand. With a final bolstering breath he walked to the office.

"... this weekend that I didn't expect. It kinda threw me off guard," Emma was speaking in a quiet, almost pained, voice with her eyes trained on the desk in front of her.

Killian's heart sped up. Scenario after scenario played themselves out in his head. It had something to do with her date, of that he was sure. For an awful moment he wondered if the man she was with had hurt her in some way and then with an equally painful thought he wondered if, in fact, the man had proposed and that was the cause of Emma's dilemma.

"Killian," Regina said breathlessly, dragging his attention to her staring at him with unbelieving eyes.

"Yeah, it was," Emma answered quietly. Suddenly she looked up at Regina, "Wait, how did you know that Killian was back in town?"

Emma turned around in her chair giving Killian the time to wipe the shock at hearing that his return was the reason for upsetting her. She looked him over, much as she had at the diner and similarly shocked at seeing him. His hand twitched, wanting to smooth down his hair or adjust his jacket under her scrutiny but it was the only sign that belied his calm demeanor. Neither her nor Regina seemed inclined to speak, too surprised by his appearance in the doorway.

"Ladies, shall we get down to business?" He asked with a half smile and a raised eyebrow.

"Killian, you look…" Emma said taken aback, as though she still couldn't quite believe it was him.

"I know," he supplied, glad Will had talked him out of a tie. "You look stunning, Swan."

Indeed she did. Killian had never seen her so dressed up, in a skirt and blouse, and while he hadn't been on her mind when choosing her outfit, he felt a thrill that she had made an effort to impress the new landlord none the less. Her long hair was once again up in a complicated braid, similar to the one she had worn that night at Granny's so many months before.

"Please tell me you're here for a better reason than to flirt with Emma and please tell me that that reason has nothing to do with CB & EJ," Regina groused, drawing Killian's attention to her.

"I can answer in the affirmative to the former but alas I cannot with the latter," he tried to ignore the burning feeling on the back of his neck and tips of his ears. "I believe I have an appointment to discuss how we'll be moving forward concerning the lease of this studio."

"You're working for CB & EJ?" Emma said in a stronger voice, almost accusingly.

"I am CB & EJ," he answered succinctly, making sure to address both Emma and Regina. "It's a small company now but I intend to expand in due course. May I take a seat?"

"Oh, by all means," Regina said with a smirk, indicating the chair next to Emma. "This will be entertaining to say the least."

Raising his eyebrow at her he sat down, aware that Emma was watching his every move. He had been worried that no one would take him seriously and it appeared that Regina would be the first he had to prove himself to. She would most likely not be the last.

As he had done at Granny's he opened his briefcase and pulled out a file. It was much slimmer than the one for the diner had been but no less important. Both women were watching him carefully, Regina much like an adult indulging a toddler and Emma with apprehension that Killian wished he could erase. Laying the file on the desk he put down his briefcase and sat back in his chair.

"Gold may have been unfair and somewhat cruel but there's no denying that he has quite the head for business."

Regina's gaze darted to Emma's and the quickly back to him. There was something in that glance that caught Killian's attention. He wondered if Emma was tied to Gold through more than just Henry and Neal.

"Looking over the leases from the past and what little information I had concerning the profit margin for the studio it seems as though most of the money made was being funneled right back into the business. When was the last time this studio was comfortably in the black?" Killian addressed the question to Regina but watched Emma out of the corner of his eye.

"We didn't start turning a profit until two years ago," Regina said reluctantly. "The numbers would be higher if Gold hadn't decided to suck us dry with the ridiculously expensive rent."

"I don't see what our profits have to do with why you're here, Jones," Emma said sternly. "This meeting is to negotiate the rent, not to receive financial advice from a guy who bought up half the town on a whim."

Killian kept his face impassive but winced internally. She was right, of course, but there was also no dancing around the fact that he wasn't going to be lackadaisical about his new lot in life. His gift to Granny was the exception and one he had spent days arguing with his lawyer about. He couldn't afford to be that generous with everyone.

"I may not be qualified to give advice but I highly suggest hiring someone who is. This business is growing quickly and soon it will be beyond running the numbers yourselves. Gold knew that and was fully prepared to take advantage of it," he warned, still looking between the two women but addressing Emma more. "He had access to more information than anyone was probably aware of and that made it easy for him to manipulate a great many people. Yourselves included."

Emma's demeanor shifted for a moment, like a cloud passing in front of the sun, but before Killian could read into it she was smiling indulgently at him. It was with a grim realization that he understood she was upset with him.

"I guess I should be thanking you then, our knight in shining armor coming to rescue the damsels in distress. Let me tell you something, Mr. Jones," Emma sneered. "Nobody saves me but me. We would have been just fine without you."

He could do nothing to mask his wince after that cutting remark. She wasn't just upset with him, she was irate. Even Regina seemed taken aback by the venom in her voice.

"Swan, it was never my intention to imply…"

"And yet here we are."

She stared at him, almost challengingly. He felt all the fight go out of him. It was too late, he had been gone too long and too much had been left unsaid between them. Resigned he took a breath and went back to addressing Regina.

"Gold may have increased your rent exponentially but he wasn't wrong in his projections which I've included in here," he said quietly, tapping the file on the desk. "Unfortunately I can't reduce your rent back to what you were paying before your last rent increase. The property values in Storybrooke are rising and the cost of living is as well. It's just not feasible."

Emma scoffed. Regina shot a scathing look at her.

"What are we looking at then? There's no way we can continue paying what he wanted us to before you bought the place," Regina said concerned. "Killian, I can't lose this place."

"I know."

Resolutely not looking at Emma he picked up the file and pulled three contracts from it. Handing one to each of the women and keeping one for himself he began telling them his plan.

"While I can't reduce your rent back to what it was before I can lower it significantly. My proposal is entering into a six month lease where your rent will be three thousand dollars a month. After the six months is up we'll meet again to discuss the growth of your business and renegotiate the lease for another six months," he hesitated and then turned to address Emma alone. "This is the basic structure of the offers I'm making to every business in the buildings I now own, including Anton. You and Regina are not getting any special treatment from me."

The fire that had been in Emma's eyes suddenly died and she dropped her eyes to the contract in her hands. He wanted to explain himself better, to tell her everything that had happened since he had left and even before that, back to when he had left the party she had thrown for his birthday. Unfortunately they weren't alone and it was a conversation they deserved to have without interruption.

"Your proposal seems fair. Can we have some time to look over the contract and discuss it?" Regina asked, flipping through her own copy.

"Of course," Killian said without looking away from Emma. "Once you've reached a decision I can be reached at the number on the business card I've attached to the file. My office isn't quite set up yet but you'll be able to find me there as well. I'll need the contracts, signed or not, by Wednesday. My lawyer's deadline, not mine."

"We'll get back to you by tomorrow morning," Regina said pointedly, glaring at Emma.

He wanted to stay, to wait for Emma to look at him but his time was up. His appointments had been scheduled closely together for the singular reason of ensuring that he didn't dwell on what happened in each one. There was no use in getting sentimental or mired in personal feelings when he needed a firm hand to keep things from collapsing altogether.

"Good," he said, looking back at Regina and nodding once before standing up. "I'm glad we were able to have this meeting, ladies."

"You're leaving?" Emma asked, surprised.

"I'm a busy man, Swan," he tipped her a wink but he could only muster a half smile. "Perhaps we could get coffee later this week? There's some personal matters I believe we need to discuss."

"I don't know, Jones. You just said yourself, you're a busy man," she said quietly, looking up at him uncertainly.

"I can always find time for you, love," he told her seriously, holding her gaze.

She didn't blink but her eyes darted between his trying to find something in them. It was only when Regina pointedly cleared her throat that Emma looked away.

"Til tomorrow, then," he said hopefully, bending down and picking up his briefcase. "Regina. Swan."

They both nodded at him as he turned to leave, each caught up in their own thoughts. As he stepped back out into the hallway he could hear the buzz of a tattoo gun, another day at the studio had begun.

Making his way to the front he once again passed under the scrutiny of August and Jefferson, Ruby was bent over a young woman's leg but paused to watch him walk by. He gave her a small smile, a genuine one, and she returned it with an added wink. Having her on his side was a great bolster for his hopes that Emma would eventually be willing to hear him out.

Thankful that he had enough on his plate to distract him he exited the studio into the bright light of the midday sun. His next appointment was with Anton, which was bound to be the most congenial of all his meetings. Killian paused outside the door to the flower shop, closed his eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath. The hardest part was behind him and even though Emma was apprehensive he knew there was still a chance to redeem himself in her eyes. Even if it meant divulging everything he'd done to get back to her.

* * *

 **A.N.: Now don't be too mad or frustrated with Emma, next week's chapter will hopefully clear it up. In case you missed it I reblogged a picture of Colin looking how I described in business wear on my tumblr, you can find it under the Stains of Ink tab.**

 **Just a small heads up, we are heading into the final few chapters. There are two, maybe three left before the end. I just want to prepare everyone for it, since it'll be done around the same time as the fall finale of the show. I never intended it to work out that way but hey, fate is a funny thing.**

 **Also I'll be posting next week's chapter on either Wednesday or Friday, depending on how quickly I finish writing and editing it. So keep an eye out for that. We'll be seeing Emma dealing with some truths she's been overlooking for far too long.**


	25. Chapter 23

**The characters will always belong to Kitsis and Horowitz but I'm taking them out to play.**

* * *

"Emma, we discussed this all day yesterday and agreed that this is what's best for the studio. It's a fair proposition and considering how personal this is for all of us I'm not willing to piss off the person who actually stepped in to save us. I've already signed on the dotted line, so get over the pity party and remember that it's not all about you and your tangled up love life."

Regina wasn't yelling at her but it was a close thing. Emma knew she was being difficult, if Regina had been pulling the crap she was the yelling would have started long before.

It wasn't that Killian's offer wasn't exactly the break that the studio needed to keep afloat or that his timing with the whole thing was nearly perfect. She just couldn't get past the fact that he had disappeared without any warning and returned as a saving grace for almost half the town. Ruby had even told her about what he'd done for Granny, gifting her the deed for the diner without any kind of payment in return.

She had felt a little ashamed when she heard that. After all her accusations that he had done it to save the Quills, Emma had never even thought about all the others he had become responsible for. Word had been spreading all through town about the varying offers he'd made to business owners that all seemed to favor them instead of him. There was even a rumor that Gold was using everything in his power to find a way to get it all back, but Emma only had Leroy's word to go on.

"Are we sure that we can trust him? Where did he get the money for all this? I mean, come on, he was working as a florist for Anton for God's sake. Not exactly a high paying job," Emma hedged.

"I can't believe I'm hearing this or that I have to say this to you," Regina sighed. "Killian is a good man, just look at what he's done for this town. If you can't trust him that says more about you than it does about him.

"As for the money, well, how much do we really know about his life before he came here? He could be a Lord or something and was over here to escape his obligations before. We don't know why he left, maybe his castle needed a new coat of gold or his horde of diamonds needed counting. Don't look the damn gift horse in the mouth and sign the papers. End of discussion."

Emma wanted to pout, despite how childish and immature it would make her seem. She also wanted to set the facts straight and let Regina know just how much she wanted to trust him. It was that step, that leap of faith, that terrified her the most and the reason she was hesitant to sign the papers. If she put it all on the line and she lost it, because of him, it might be the thing that would finally break her.

Yet, Regina was right. Emma was letting her personal feelings and worries cloud her judgement. They had talked through every aspect of the contract the day before, pleased to find there were no hidden surprises or loopholes. It had been a relief to know that there was nothing that seemed out of place or suspicious, that Killian was true to his word. He seemed to be an honest business man but Emma couldn't be sure.

"Stop overthinking it," Regina snapped as she rolled her eyes. "Don't give me that wounded look, either. I told him we'd have an answer by this morning and it's already almost noon."

"You're the one that made that promise, not me," Emma grumbled.

"Yes, but you're the one that's still stalling. You know what? You get to be the one to hand deliver the good news. I'm tired all this dancing around, from the both of you."

Regina picked up the copies of the contract and practically shoved them into Emma's hands. Before Emma could protest or try to figure out what she meant Regina's phone rang and effectively ended the conversation.

Huffing a bit as she stood up and walked out the door, Emma decided to get over her issues and treat Killian as he should be treated as the landlord. If she let her feelings drive her any further she would end up doing something she would regret.

"Emma?"

With a start Emma realized she had walked in a daze to her station and David was sitting in her chair, looking up at her worriedly.

"Hey, David. What's up?" She was glad to see him and not only because he was a welcome distraction.

"Not much, just thought you'd like to get some lunch? My treat," he said with a smile.

"Ah, music to my ears," she answered with a smile of her own, tossing the contracts on her desk. "Granny's?"

"You have to ask? Mary Margaret has developed an obsession with kale. I need something deep fried before I do something drastic," David said seriously as he stood up.

"Like try to force Henry to eat it instead? He still refuses to eat apples by the way."

"It's not my fault the poisoned apple was the thing he remembered most from Snow White. Be glad I didn't make him watch Stand By Me instead. You'd be living a sad pie-less life."

"Ha ha," she deadpanned as she led the way out of the studio.

"I'm serious, no one deserves that kind of misery," David intoned, straight faced. "All you'd be left with is cake as a baked dessert option and that's just wrong."

"You know, I still don't understand your weird cake hatred. Cake is a birthday, wedding, and company picnic standard, it's inevitable party fare."

"My mom always made pies for my birthday," he said with a shrug as he stepped up behind her on the curb in front of Granny's. "By the time I learned that cake was a thing it was too late to be converted."

Emma snorted, ignoring the odd looks she got from a group of young mothers as they left the diner. Her laughter doubled when she caught sight of David wistfully watching the strollers roll by. She couldn't help herself, the Nolan's baby fever seemed to have reached new heights and she'd had to endure every moment of it.

"You know, you could be taking Mary Margaret out to lunch instead," Emma suggested, trying to keep her lips from twitching. "Then you could get a little more practice making a baby instead of looking like you're ready to just grab one and run."

"Emma, I'm a sworn deputy. If anything I'd make sure Mary Margaret was here to run a distraction and then grab one and run," David joked, cheeks red from being caught staring.

They made it through the whole meal before Emma realized why David had invited her to lunch. She had been caught up in teasing him about getting Mary Margaret pregnant and trying to get him to take Henry camping again for the first week of summer. It wasn't until their waiter walked by their table three times after their plates had been taken away without any sign of a check that she got an inkling about what was going on.

"David. You didn't want to come to Granny's because of the onion rings did you?" She asked warily.

"Not completely," he hedged, eyes shifting to their waiter as he passed by a fourth time. "Although Mary Margaret has gone a little overboard with the kale lately."

"David," she warned.

"Alright, alright," he sighed, looking at her warily. "Mary Margaret told me about everything that Killian's done."

She wanted to get up and walk away. To walk until she reached the town limits and then just keep going. It seemed to be the only way she'd get a single moment where she wasn't being lectured or on the receiving end of looks of concern from her so called friends.

"If you thought buying me a grilled cheese and extra onion rings would soften me up, you're sorely mistaken. I don't need everybody butting into my business again, thank you very much."

Digging in her pocket for her wallet she almost missed David rolling his eyes.

"What?" She asked "I didn't ask for this. For everyone to tell me that I should feel this way or that way or look at it from this perspective or another. Why won't anyone let me think and feel how I want to?"

David considered her for a second before nodding to himself and looking her straight in the eye.

"I also talked to Killian."

"David, please tell me you didn't do something stupid again," she groaned, ignoring the sudden drop her stomach had taken.

"He called me, actually. Seems he wanted to apologize for, how did he put it? Oh yeah, 'Any undue harm I may have caused by my sudden disappearance'. Then he put on some song and dance about Henry and making it up to him but funny enough, I'm pretty sure he wasn't talking about Henry," David was tapping the table with his fingertips, as though he was trying to dispel the tension the topic had brought up. "Look, I get why you're upset, we all do. He disappeared without a word, right after the mess with Neal started, when you needed someone in your corner. But you have to realize that he's done something no one else who left you has done. He came back. Not only that but he made sure to let you know that he never stopped thinking about you. Even if the way he did it was a little unconventional."

Emma sat back, floored that David was still the one backing Killian. She still didn't know what their conversation had been after David had released Killian but for David to still be championing him so many months later it had to have been significant. There was still a niggling feeling that something was off, that Killian was hiding something behind the grand statement of his return, and it was that feeling that had her digging in her heels about trusting him so fully.

"David, those letters were for Henry. I was just an afterthought, a simple gesture to be polite," she tried not to sound like the broken, sad woman she'd been when Killian had left but from the look on David's face she failed.

"You need to stop lying to yourself, Emma. Yes, those letters were addressed to Henry but it wasn't hard to see that they were meant for you. You just never read between the lines."

"Then why didn't he write to me or call, anything? It's not hard to pick up a phone these days."

The indignation that she'd felt when she realized Killian had spent all his time playing savior was starting to flare up again. He'd gone behind the backs of too many people, working in the shadows buying up the town, and then waltzed in expecting everyone to fall at his feet. She suddenly felt like marching back to the studio and ripping up the contract into confetti.

"And yet you seemed to have the exact same problem," David's calm, almost accusing, voice was like dumping a bucket of cold water over her head.

"Excuse me?"

"You had his address from the very first letter he sent Henry. You've also had his number in your phone since last summer. It's pretty safe to say that you don't get to play the 'he could have called' card," David said, none too gently. "At least Killian made some kind of effort. How do you think he feels? He has no idea that you've been spending the last eight months waiting for the next letter to arrive, hoping for some clue that he was coming back. Now he has and you're mad at why? I can tell you right now that he didn't buy Granny's, or Anton's, or any of it because he got a wild hair up his ass. All of that was a means to an end, to getting the fate of Queen's Quills back into yours and Regina's hands. He did all of this for you."

Her jaw dropped and she immediately snapped it shut. She had hoped, late the night before when the moon had set and the sunrise was still hours away, that he had come back for her that part of him still wanted her but she had stomped it down and tucked it away. Now it was bursting out, filling her with a warmth that she could feel from her toes to the tips of her ears and she was helpless to stop it.

"How do you know that?" She asked in a small voice.

"It's not that hard to miss if you have eyes, Emma," David chided gently. "And just talking to him for two minutes convinced me of it. Talk to him, he deserves that much."

He stood up, making a production of looking at both his watch and the clock on the wall. Emma knew she should say something, anything but her thoughts were a jumble, racing amongst themselves in tangle of emotion. David smiled at her sympathetically and dropped his hand to her shoulder, squeezing gently.

"Don't worry," he smiled when she looked up at him, "I think he's more worried about what you have to say than you are of what he does. I've got to get back to the station but feel free to call me if you need anything."

Emma hummed in agreement, the only sound she seemed capable of making. He squeezed her shoulder once more and then left, throwing out a greeting or two to people as he passed. She shook her head wondering if he'd ever run for the sheriff position and then shook it again when she realized she was avoiding the very real issues she was faced with.

Slowly she stood up, smiling at their waiter who nodded discreetly finally acknowledging her suspicion that she had no bill to pay. It was just another thing on the long list of questions she had for Killian. Ones that she would ask when she showed up at his office with signed contracts in hand.

Mick was nowhere to be seen when she got back to the studio. He had a habit of letting his curiosity get the better of him, drifting back to watch whoever was working on a tattoo at the moment. She made a mental note to threaten to chain him to the desk if he made it a habit as she rounded the corner and headed towards her work station. The sight of Neal sitting in her chair brought her up short.

"What are you doing here?" Emma snapped, annoyed that she had to deal with him on top of everything. "Henry said you weren't going to be here until next weekend."

"Aw, it's nice to see you too Emma," Neal said with a lazy smile.

"What are you doing here?" She repeated, simultaneously glad and mad that Jefferson was the only other Quills worker there and he was busy with a client.

"You know, I'm not entirely sure. It's not like you're the nicest person to talk to when I'm in town. If you're even willing to talk to me that is."

"Neal," Emma said exasperated. "Do you seriously expect me to be all smiles and sunshine with you? We talked about this."

"No, you lectured me about this. Then you yelled at me about it and then a couple more lectures plus those lovely voicemails you sent after Christmas," he said, smile still in place. "If I didn't know you better I'd think you'd actually want to talk to me."

"You don't know me at all, you just think you do."

"Nah, I think I know you pretty well. You're the same girl I met back in Portland, just older and a little bit more guarded."

"Well, we both know who to thank for that," she snapped, crossing her arms and leaning on the partition.

"Could it be… me? I'm still not entirely sure since you haven't mentioned it in the past month or so," his dropped his smile and gave her a pointed look.

"Why are you here, Neal?" She asked for the third time, annoyed and starting to get pissed off.

"Friendly visit?" His voice was hopeful. "Nah, you never stay around long enough for even an unfriendly one."

"Jesus, Neal, stop with the runaround. I have important things to get to," her eyes flitted to the contracts on her desk.

"I'm sorry, Emma."

Her eyes snapped back to his. He was watching her, warily but seriously, all traces of joking long gone.

"For what, exactly?" Emma asked, just as serious and just as wary.

"Everything? Acting like an asshole every time I've seen you since New York. Not being there for Henry, for you. Leaving you, setting you up, I don't know, take your pick," Neal sighed, rubbing his hand over his face.

"Most of that sounds pretty good," Emma agreed with a sigh of her own.

Grabbing the chair from Ruby's station she rolled it to where she had been standing and planted herself in it.

"I never meant to hurt you, Emma," he said it so quietly Emma could barely hear him over Jefferson's tattoo gun.

"But you did," she took in an unsteady breath. "You broke me, Neal, and I don't know if I can just smile and tell you I forgive you. Not right now."

"Not right now, but someday?"

"Maybe. I'd like to think so but I'm not making any promises."

"I can live with maybe," Neal said with a small smile.

"Don't hold your breath, I'm still mad at you," Emma told him without heat.

"I know but maybe someday you won't be," he shrugged.

"Why now? What brought this on?" She asked, genuinely curious.

"The last time I was here Henry kept talking about Career Day. It's next Friday, did you know that?"

"Yeah," she said slowly.

"I don't even know why I asked, that's all Henry was talking about. How you had been at every one, even when you had a double shift or were sick," he trailed off looking down at his hands.

Emma remembered the Career Day she'd been sick. She'd had to cancel all her appointments the day before and she'd had to send Henry to David and Mary Margaret's that night. Despite spending over twenty-four hours in bed and feeling like she'd been hit by a semi she had made it to Henry's school on time. Her talk hadn't been one of the best, she could barely remember if she'd even said her name at any point, but she had been there.

"Did he ask you to be there?"

She didn't even know what Neal did, if it was even legal, but if Henry wanted him there she wasn't going to interfere.

"Nah, he never brought it up and I didn't ask. I'm just a guy who's dropped into his life and trying to be a small part of it. I'm not his hero."

"Well, Captain America had to cancel," she tried to make it a joke but couldn't quite get past the lump in her throat.

"Don't sell yourself short," he looked back up at her. "You've raised a good kid, Emma."

All hopes of keeping her tears in check were lost. It wasn't just what Neal had said but the way he had said it. She didn't need his approval or his support, they were too far beyond that. His respect and admiration, however, was the one thing she didn't realize she wanted and it suddenly felt like all the years of resentment had sloughed off at once.

"Yeah, he's pretty great," she said once she could form the words.

"Just like his mom," Neal said quietly, holding out a box of tissues for her.

"Neal," she warned.

"No, I know. Don't worry I'm not trying to get back with you or anything but that doesn't mean I can't see that you've done more than okay since I fucked up your life. Besides I'm seeing someone and she's got me toeing the line."

He grinned and she huffed out a laugh, finally grabbing a tissue from him.

"Good, you need it."

"Yeah, I do," he took a breath and seeming to decide something leaned forward. "Look, the real reason I'm here is Pops called me and said that I needed to get here fast. Didn't say why or what was going on. I thought it had something to do with Henry but when I got here all Pops would tell me was that I needed to keep you distracted. He was rambling on about getting played and how no one could pull one over on him. Do you know what the hell is going on?"

With a start she realized she did know. Gold had found out that Killian was CB & EJ or at least that he was connected to the company. She'd heard of Gold's boasting over how he'd made a deal unlike any other and the money he'd been payed was beyond what any of the properties were actually worth. At the time she had found it annoying and almost a slap in the face to the people he'd already had under his thumb. She was beginning to understand just how much Killian had taken on.

The fact that Gold needed Neal to distract her was the first thought that something else was at play, almost like a sweater unravelling. She would only need to be kept out of the way if she posed a threat to Gold. He had done it before, forced her to do something she didn't want to for his own gain. Suddenly she thought back to that day, when Gold had threatened the studio if she hadn't kept Neal in town. Killian had been acting at odds with himself and distant with her, as if he had been trying to push her away but not wanting to do it.

"Neal, where is he?" Emma stood up suddenly, her chair rolling across the studio from the force of it.

"I don't know. He just said he had business to attend to and that I should try to talk to you about getting to see Henry more," Neal stood too, confused. "What is it?"

"I'm not sure. Look, can we do this later?" She asked, eyes darting to the front of the studio and back to Neal's puzzled face.

"Sure, I guess. Emma, what's going on?"

"You're dad's being an asshole and I've been one too. Feel free to pick up Henry from school, he'll be excited to see you."

Emma didn't wait for his answer as she stormed out of the studio. She turned towards the flower shop but only went as far as the unmarked door in between it and the studio. The door led to an office space above the studio that had been empty the entire time she had worked at Queen's Quills. Regina had complained that they could use it themselves more than once. When Emma had looked at the card Killian had left with the file she had been amused to see that he had taken over the space himself.

The door was unlocked, not a surprise but still weird after all the years she'd walked by it wondering how a space like that had stayed empty for so long. She took the stairs at a fast but even pace. Gold didn't need to hear her thundering up the stairs and neither did Killian, she needed the element of surprise on her side.

Stepping onto a small landing Emma saw only one door, which was open. She cautiously walked through and found herself in a kind of waiting room, or it would be it had any kind of furniture in it. There was a second door, which was closed, and she could hear voices coming from behind it. They weren't yelling but they were talking loud enough that she didn't have to strain to hear what they were saying.

"... Edward Thatch and I'm supposed to believe that it was in fact you?" Gold's voice was low, biting.

"Thatch is my lawyer, a ruthless, pigheaded, asshole of a man but one I'm elated to have on my side. He was more than willing to be my mouthpiece considering how much I pay him," Killian sounded at ease, almost lazy in his response.

"This cannot stand…"

"And yet it will. There's nothing you can do, all properties are legally mine now. You've been payed, papers have been signed. It's done," Killian's voice had taken on a steely tone.

"I'll be going over those papers with a fine tooth comb, Mr. Jones. I will find something," Gold threatened.

"Be my guest but there's nothing to find. Thatch made sure of that. Perhaps if you had retained a lawyer of your own instead of foolishly representing yourself this wouldn't have been such a surprise."

"All this for a woman whose affections have long since transferred to another? What a shame, I'd almost think of you as trouble if not for that."

Emma could almost hear the sneer in Gold's voice.

"It may have started out that way but I've found a greater purpose for what I've done. I wouldn't get too comfortable, Gold. I'm just getting started and you have nothing left to hold over me," the dismissal was easy to hear in Killian's words.

Suddenly the sounds of things being tossed and breaking came from behind the door. It slammed open and Gold stalked past, barely sparing her an irate glare and a low growl in his throat before he limped down the stairs. She stood in the outer room for a moment more before going into the office.

Killian had been right when he said that his office wasn't set up. He must have taken some decorating tips from Granny because his desk seemed to be a card table, which was upturned and leaning against a stack of boxes, and there were only two badly rusted folding chairs, one of which was on its side next to the table.

There were papers strewn everywhere, a puddle of water spreading across the floor and broken pieces of glass all around. Killian was on his hands and knees picking up the glass, unaware that she was standing in the doorway. She bent down grabbing a lone piece of paper, nothing much on it save seemingly absent doodles of boats, and walked over to him.

"Sorry about the mess, just been with a man who's a bit upset with his lot in life. Watch where you step there's a bit of glass still lying about," Killian said jovially without looking up at her.

She fought the impulse to laugh. He was scurrying around on the floor in another suit, dark grey this time, and no jacket. The long sleeves of his black shirt were rolled up to his elbows and he was plucking glass up off the floor as though he still wore the khakis and polo shirt from the nursery.

"Is this yours?" She asked waving the paper in front of his face, her face flushing as she remembered how she first met him.

"Alas, every shoddy thing in here is mine, not to mention… Swan?"

He was looking up at her in disbelief, a pile of glass in his left hand and a large shard gripped in the fingers of his right.

"You're not wearing your glove," she said stupidly, the paper in her hand drooping pathetically in his face.

"Gold stopped by rather unexpectedly. I didn't get the chance to put it back on," he stood up and tossed the pieces of glass into a trashcan. "That's not the contracts."

Emma looked down at the doodle covered paper in her hand, kicking herself that just because she knew what she was going to say to him he didn't. For all Killian knew she was there to tell him that she wasn't going to sign the contract, that Queen's Quills wasn't going to stay in the building he owned. She wanted to kick herself even harder for letting him think that.

"No, I left in kind of a rush. They're downstairs, I should go get them. Wait here, I'll go get them," she said half turning back out of the office.

"Swan," Killian was watching her with a bemused smile. "Why did you rush up here?"

She thought about lying to him or at least half lying to him. The words wouldn't form and she realized she didn't want them to. They were getting another chance and she wasn't about to screw it up by keeping things from him instead of figuring it out together.

"Neal was sent to the studio to keep me from interrupting whatever Gold was here to do," she shrugged and swept her hand out over the floor. "Looks like I was too late to prevent this."

"Were you coming up here to play the hero?" He asked, rocking back on his heels. "I must say I'm honored, love."

Her cheeks heated up as she felt a blush spread across her face and down her neck. To hide it she stepped further into the office and moved to set the table to rights, avoiding his eyes. It was only when the table was back on its four legs that she noticed what must have been a bouquet of flowers strewn across the floor.

"It was a vase," Killian supplied as she bent over to pick up one of the buds, leaving the doodled on page on the table. "The broken glass I mean. Anton sent them up earlier, kind of a welcome back and thank you all in one go."

"I have a couple of spare vases down in the studio. I'll bring one up when I get the contracts," she slowly turned the light pink flower, a rose, in her fingers, darting a glance up at him.

"You're going to sign them?" He asked hesitantly, watching her closely.

"Of course I am. As Regina kept telling me, I'd be stupid not to. You've done so much for so many people in this town, us included," she held the bloom out to him.

"No, love, you keep it," he said quietly.

"Roses are overrated," she complained even as she pulled her hand back.

"And yet I still want you to have it."

Killian gave her a knowing smile and started picking up debris from the floor. He tossed the papers randomly on the desk but carefully placed the flowers on the seat of the chair that was still upright. Emma crouched down to help him, still gripping the rose tightly.

"Why CB & EJ?" She asked as she stood the chair up and sat in it, the papers all cleaned up, the water haphazardly mopped up with napkins from Granny's, and the few pieces of glass that had been left swept into the trash.

"Oh, that," he chuckled as he gathered the flowers in his arms and looked around the office before shrugging and putting them on a short stack of boxes. "I needed a company name that wouldn't tip Gold off that it was me behind it all. I thought of all sorts of things, song titles, catchphrases from movies, using the names of classic rock artists, you name it I considered it at least once. Finally I figured initials would be the best, and least conspicuous."

"But what do they stand for? I mean, the 'J' is for Jones, right?"

"Right in one, Swan," he grinned and sat down.

"But what about the CB or the E? Do you have a million names like Prince William or something?" She asked, wondering if Regina had been right about Killian being a Lord of some kind.

"Never pegged you for fancying His Royal Highness, love. Should I be jealous?"

"You're avoiding the question," Emma pointed out, ignoring his teasing.

To her surprise he rubbed behind his ear and dropped his gaze to the mess of papers on his desk.

"I, er, don't have a million names. The initials stand for Captain Blue Eyed Jones," he looked up at her quickly to gauge her reaction before looking back down. "A little inside joke with myself, as it were."

"You named your company after a nickname Ruby gave you?" She was dumbfounded by how ridiculous and almost adorable that was.

"You've addressed me by it a time or two as well, love," he answered as he looked up at her again.

She felt the heat of a blush return, "And the 'Captain' part?"

"You, er, have accused me of being a pirate before. I figured if I was to go through with my plan, try a little pillaging and plundering from Gold's hoard, I ought to have a fitting title for the part," Killian sounded like he was forcing himself to be cheerful and gave her a tight grin.

"Where did you get it?" She asked, done waiting for the right time to address how he'd had the money to do it all. "Where did the money come from for you to do all of this?"

"It's all mine, if that's what you're wondering. Nothing dodgy about it, despite what lies Will may have been spreading around town," his eyes flitted away from hers and she could tell he wasn't lying but he was still keeping something from her.

"I haven't heard anything Will's been saying," Emma tilted her head slightly, wondering if it was worth pushing him on it. "That's a lot of money you've put into this town, into helping people, helping… helping me. I just need to know that you're going to be okay, Killian."

His eyes widened. She wasn't sure if it was from her saying his name or from her obvious concern for him.

"You don't have to worry about me, Swan. I had some savings from Liam's life insurance stashed away."

"But that couldn't have been that much," she nearly bit her tongue as she snapped her mouth shut, cursing her callousness.

"It wasn't but it was a fair amount once added to another sum," he said hesitantly, almost unwillingly and looked away from her.

"Another sum?"

"The settlement from the accident that did this," he said with a pained smile as he held up his left hand and was watching her with guarded eyes.

The accident that ruined his hand, the one that had killed his wife and had him escaping from the aftermath of it all to Storybrooke. She didn't know how to respond to the enormity of what he was trying to tell her.

"And you used it to help me?"

He looked at her seriously then, dropping all pretenses. Emma's breath caught in her throat as he gazed at her unblinkingly.

His answer, when he gave it, was at once heartbreaking and full of hope. In that moment she knew she was done running and done pushing him away. She was ready to move forward, to have a future, with him.

"Yes, Emma, I did."

* * *

 **A.N.: There's only one more chapter and an epilogue to go after this. We're winding down and I don't quite know how I feel about it.**

 **Next week it will be Killian's chance to explain everything.**


	26. Chapter 24

**The characters belong to Kitsis and Horowitz but I want to play.**

* * *

Killian knew he should have moved the desk from his room to his new office. It would have been a pain in the ass to get it out of the apartment, it had been a whole ordeal to get it in there in the first place, but at least he would have had a surface to work on that didn't wobble and squeak every time he put pressure on it. He had thought it had been a good idea to be in the office the day he was revealed to be CB & EJ and it had been, aside from the fact that he hadn't thought to furnish it first and had to use the ancient card table and some chairs that Robin used for poker nights.

The meetings he'd had the day before had mostly gone better than he anticipated. Many, like Anton, were surprised but took the news in stride and easily agreed to the terms he'd set. Some had been like Emma and Regina, needing a bit more time to consider their options even if he was giving them the best one. A few, a very small few but still enough to make him doubt himself, had said no outright and given their thirty days notice. He wondered if Gold still held sway over them but then he decided it wasn't his concern. They would have to continue on their own, he owed them nothing and they owed him nothing in return.

He had returned to the apartment late that night exhausted but satisfied. Will and Belle had both been there and even though he stood making small talk, asking Belle about her conference, he'd been aching to retire to his room and collapse on his bed. The only reason he didn't was that he was genuinely intrigued by the woman who had so ensnared his cousin. She was petite, brunette, and had a fire in her that would have drawn Killian himself if she wasn't already plainly smitten with Will and if he wasn't just as smitten with Emma.

After he had reasoned that a respectable enough time had passed he had made his excuses and escaped to his room. He had felt like an interloper, a stranger in his own home, and in a way he was. There was something about living on his own that he had grown accustomed to, so different than after Milah had died and he had guilt and heartache as his constant companions. For the first time he had felt like a proper adult; working on piecing together his new company, arguing with a lawyer who happened to be on his payroll, and making decisions that would have a lasting impact on his life and his future. Returning to the small bedroom in the apartment he'd run away to was almost a let down. He had called a moving company almost as soon as he woke up the next morning.

Will hadn't been surprised when Killian told him over breakfast he was moving out earlier than expected. Not that he had thought Will would make a scene but he was amused that Will just shrugged and told him that he still owed rent from all the months he'd been gone. He was less amused when he realized that Will was serious and had to point out that he now owned the building and Will's rent had been drastically reduced as a result.

Belle had taken Killian's side when she had pinched Will's arm and offered to help with whatever he needed during the move. He thanked her and teased Will about managing to get someone completely out of his league to not only give him the time of day but to spend time with him in the first place. Will snarked back but Killian could see that deep down Will believed that Belle was too good for him. He'd have to work on disabusing Will of that notion.

After breakfast he'd showered, dressed, and gone to his new office to start his day. He had been surprised when he'd been looking over the different properties he was buying that the space hadn't had a tenant in years. It wasn't large by any means but it was in an ideal location and would do to serve his needs quite nicely. The fact that it was situated right above Queen's Quills hadn't escaped his notice but he had firmly decided not to dwell on it and he hadn't, up until the moment they opened and he could hear the muffled buzzing of tattoo guns beneath his feet.

The meeting he'd had at the studio the day before hadn't gone exactly how he'd wanted but it hadn't ended with Emma slapping him or Regina laughing in his face so he had chalked it up as a win. He tried not to think about how, at any moment, either one of them would walk into his office and depending on what they did or did not carry with them would decide everything. He really should have moved that damn desk in.

It was mid-morning, still early enough that he wasn't inundated with phone calls but late enough that he kept an eye on the doors leading out to the landing at the top of the stairs. He had wanted to get an early start, get unimportant paperwork out of the way so it wouldn't pile up and get neglected as more pressing matters stole his attention. All he had accomplished, however, was staring at his phone trying to come up with an adequate response for yet another email from his lawyer.

Edward Thatch was a bully, mean and vindictive, but one Killian was eternally grateful was on his side. They'd met after Milah had died, Thatch had taken on Killian's case as a way to temper his reputation as a heartless bastard who only cared about the money. He was, Thatch didn't deny it, and Killian had almost fired him countless times but in the end Thatch had won him £3 million in the wrongful death claim. While Thatch was usually a defense attorney he had grudgingly allowed himself to put under retainer until Killian found a worthy replacement in the States. Killian's generous incentive had gone a long way in swaying Thatch's decision, that and for some reason Thatch saw Gold as 'a delightful challenge'.

He tossed his phone onto the table. Thatch could wait, he'd get paid either way and the email wasn't even important enough for Killian to be dithering about it for the amount of time he had been. As he let his thoughts wander he idly rolled up his sleeves and removed the glove from his left hand to massage the palm. Killian hadn't realized until his last meeting that he had been unconsciously clenching his hand during a majority of the tense moments throughout the day. As a result his hand was aching almost as bad as when he had first injured it.

Picking up his phone again he wondered if calling the studio below him would seem desperate and immediately decided that it would. He didn't need to push Emma, she would make a decision in her own time and he respected that. What he couldn't stand was that she didn't seem to want to talk to him to even hear what he wanted to say. Not that he knew what he was actually intending to tell her but just getting the opportunity to say anything would be enough for him.

Without thinking too much about it his thumb skimmed through his contacts and selected one he never thought he'd use. Henry had text him from David's phone a few weeks before Christmas to thank him profusely for the tree he'd had Anton deliver and to not so subtly hint at what to get Emma for Christmas. David had never realized that Henry had used his phone or that Killian had his number, Henry had covered his tracks well.

Before he could think better of it he made the call and hoped he'd catch the man in a good mood.

"This is Deputy Nolan, how can I help you?" David sounded as if he had puffed up his chest to sidle into his mantle as an authority figure.

"Depends, will I be relegated to the brig if you don't like what I have to say?" Killian couldn't quite keep the laughter out of his voice.

"Killian?" David sounded puzzled. "I heard you were back in town but how did you get this number?"

"Henry," he answered simply.

"Henry? But why would he… he didn't, not on purpose. You've had my number since, what, December and only now choose to use it? May I ask why?" David wasn't upset, merely curious.

Killian could hear the unspoken questions that David was really asking. Why he was calling him in the first place? What had happened after he'd released him from jail and Killian had fled the country? Why was Killian talking to him instead of the person they both know he truly wanted to speak to?

It was on the tip of Killian's tongue to spill everything, to make David understand why he had done what he had. To let someone know the lengths he had gone on the mere hope that things could be better, but David wasn't the one who needed to hear it. He did, however, deserve an explanation of sorts.

"I'm calling to apologize for any undue harm I may have caused by my sudden disappearance," he paused, deciding to take a roundabout approach. "I know Henry was looking forward to our navigation lessons and I reneged on that promise. While he seems to have forgiven me despite my transgressions I am fully aware that I have much to make up for."

"He was a bit upset at first but your letters certainly helped with that," David said slowly, almost with deliberate care. "I think those letters did more than you realize. They meant a lot to… Henry."

Killian let his surprise play across his face since David wasn't there to scrutinize him. If he was reading into David's words right, and he hoped beyond reason that he was, then Henry wasn't whom he had meant. It was the first sign that maybe he still had a chance to win Emma's heart.

"They, uh, meant a lot to me as well. His replies," Killian said with equal care. "I don't think I would have kept my wits about me in England if not for them."

There was a murmur of voices on David's end. Killian did his best not to eavesdrop but he heard the words 'Gold' and 'warpath' and he immediately held his phone tighter against his ear but he couldn't make out anything more.

"Killian, I've got to go but maybe we can grab a drink later this week?" David asked focusing Killian's attention back on him instead of wondering what Gold was up to.

"As long as you promise not to arrest me after I believe it can be arranged," he answered, not even hesitating.

"I can't do the arresting if I'm drinking as well. Although I can't speak for Humbert."

Killian heard an indignant shout, from Graham he assumed, and smiled. Things were falling into place more readily than he had anticipated. If not for the glaring exception he would have wondered if he was, in fact, dreaming.

"Then we shall be sure to keep our antics to a minimum or at least keep Sheriff Humbert unaware."

David laughed, "Shouldn't be a problem, he's been distracted trying to figure out how to ask Ruby to move in with him. A little ruckus would fly right under his radar."

He let out a surprised laugh himself as he heard Graham shouting again in the background. They exchanged their goodbyes, Killian promising to let David know when his schedule was free. After hanging up he sat back, pleased that something had gone marginally in his favor.

With his mood a little brighter he was able to finally compose his email to Thatch and work through some of the papers he'd neglected earlier. He was so focused that he missed the sound of knocking on the open door and only looked up when he heard a nervous voice saying his name.

"Killian Jones?"

"That would be me, lad," he said amused.

The voice appeared to come from a walking topiary but Killian knew better. He'd made far more elaborate bouquets once upon a time and the delivery boys almost hated him for it.

"These are for you," a face peeked out from behind a half-bloomed lily. "Where do you want it?"

Glancing around his sad excuse of an office he realized there weren't many options. Sighing he moved some files from the corner of the table and gestured for the boy to put them there.

"Sorry for the mess but new office and all that," he explained as he dug out his wallet. "Be sure to tell Anton the next time he decides to make a bouquet to go easy on the decorative branches. No need to strip a tree bare for aesthetic and it'll make your deliveries that much easier."

The delivery boy flushed, most likely because he didn't want to tell his boss what to do or that he agreed with the advice. Killian laughed as he handed over a tip. With a nod the boy, more young adult than kid, turned to leave but hesitated slightly at the door.

"Something else on your mind?" Killian questioned.

"I, uh, just wanted to say thank you, sir," the boy said quietly, the tips of his ears going pink. "My dad was really worried about getting kicked out of our apartment. Now he isn't, so thank you."

Killian was taken aback. It was the first time someone not directly involved with the property sales had talked to him about it, let alone thanked him for what he'd done.

"You're quite welcome…"

"Tommy."

"Then you're welcome, Tommy. Be sure to tell Anton what I said," Killian said with a wink, satisfied when Tommy grinned and waved as he walked out the door.

Before he could delve back into his paperwork or wonder if Emma would show up at all he heard the distinct tapping of a cane making its way up the stairwell. He'd hoped that Gold wouldn't show up for another day or two but he hadn't held his breath. There was nothing the man liked more than catching people unaware and wresting what he could from them as a result.

Keeping his eye on the doorway Killian wondered just what kind of warpath Gold was on. Thatch had made sure that the contracts and sales had been ironclad, no loopholes or linchpin that could undo everything. It was one of the reasons Killian had kept everyone in the dark about his plans. No one could tip off Gold to what he had been doing if no one knew in the first place.

He schooled his face into one of polite interest as Gold came into view. The man hadn't changed much since Killian had last saw him, although the derisive sneer on his face as he took in the state of the office was unwelcome. Gold's eyes settled on him and Killian stared impassively back.

"For someone who spent a fortune acquiring ill-gained properties why am I not surprised that you find yourself in such squalor?" Gold drawled as his eyes swept over the office again.

"Mr. Gold, to what do I owe the unpleasantness of your visit?" Killian retorted, not fully rising to the bait. "I'm afraid I've been too busy hearing the gratitude of my new tenants to be concerned with furnishing my office. If, however, you are so inclined there's a perfectly functional chair for you to use."

Gold looked at the rust flecked folding chair with derision. Killian let the smirk unfurl on his lips as he thought about how it might rub off on Gold's suit, staining the camel colored jacket and pants with specks of maroon. He tried not to think about how his own chair was probably doing the same thing to his clothes.

Stepping into the room and closing the door behind him, Gold lowered himself gingerly into the chair. They sat watching each other carefully. Killian was willing to wait as long as necessary for Gold to talk, he wouldn't be the first to break the silence. He didn't have to wait long.

"I must say I'm somewhat impressed by your tenacity, Mr. Jones. Although the lengths to which you're willing to go not even I could have anticipated," Gold twisted his cane in his hands, still watching Killian carefully.

"Unless you have some kind of actual business to discuss I must insist that you come back another time. I have other more pressing matters to attend to, like dealing with the mistrust you've instilled in almost every one of your former tenants," Killian said with a tight smile, remembering the small amount of suspicion he'd been faced with the day before.

"Oh, no no no, I cannot be blamed for that when you were hiding in the shadows while conducting your business. How do you expect people to respect you when you have built everything on a foundation of mistrust?" Gold asked with maddening condescension.

"I have never deceived the people directly affected by the buildings I now own," Killian growled, annoyed that Gold had got to him. "As far as they're concerned I'm a familiar face on what was a faceless company. You're the only one I intentionally deceived, and I believe you still benefited from our deal in the end."

"I was led to believe that I was dealing with Edward Thatch and I'm supposed to believe that it was, in fact, you?" Gold snapped, equally annoyed.

"Thatch is my lawyer, a ruthless, pigheaded, asshole of a man but one I'm elated to have on my side. He was more than willing to be my mouthpiece considering how much I pay him," Killian said lazily, glad that he had ruffled a few feathers.

"This cannot stand…"

"And yet it will. There's nothing you can do, all properties are legally mine now. You've been payed, papers have been signed. It's done," he said with finality, over the conversation that was starting to repeat itself.

"I'll be going over those papers with a fine tooth comb, Mr. Jones. I will find something," Gold threatened.

"Be my guest but there's nothing to find. Thatch made sure of that. Perhaps if you had retained a lawyer of your own instead of foolishly representing yourself this wouldn't have been such a surprise."

"All this for a woman whose affections have long since transferred to another? What a shame, I'd almost think of you as trouble if not for that," Gold sneered, obviously hoping to get in a final blow.

"It may have started out that way but I've found a greater purpose for what I've done," Killian said with conviction. Smiling widely he gestured to the door, "I wouldn't get too comfortable, Gold. I'm just getting started and you have nothing left to hold over me."

He watched as a myriad of emotions played over Gold's face until, in a move he couldn't have predicted, Gold stood, knocking over his chair, and grabbed the vase holding the bouquet. Killian barely had time to react before Gold threw it at the wall and then flipped over the table, sending papers flying. Gold glared at him one final time before throwing open the door and storming out.

In shock Killian dropped to the floor and began picking up the shards of glass, dumping the larger ones in his trash bin. He knew that Gold was a bit unhinged, no one made threats like that man unless there was something wrong, but he hadn't anticipated how truly unaware of his madness he had been. Laughing to himself he almost wished he had a security camera, if only to again watch Gold's rage get the better of him.

There was a creaking of floorboards and suddenly a pair of boots entered his field of vision. Not wanting to accidentally impale himself with glass or have his visitor do the same he kept picking up pieces of the vase, placing the smaller slivers into the palm of his hand.

"Sorry about the mess, just been with a man who's a bit upset with his lot in life. Watch where you step there's a bit of glass still lying about," Killian said with forced cheer as he crawled around on the floor.

Whoever his visitor was they didn't make a sound, most likely traumatized by a run in with an irate Gold as he had left. They walked further into the office and he hoped they weren't inadvertently lining the bottom of their boots with glass.

"Is this yours?" A female, a familiar female, voice asked as she waved a paper covered in his random doodles in his face.

"Alas, every shoddy thing in here is mine, not to mention… Swan?"

He had just picked up a particularly wicked piece of glass and looked up into Emma's wide, green eyes and lost all train of thought. Killian had actually forgotten that he was expecting her and what decision she had reached with Regina. She had no other papers in her hand and he had to tamp down the disappointment that had suddenly welled up in his chest.

"You're not wearing your glove," she said bluntly, the paper in her hands folding on itself.

"Gold stopped by rather unexpectedly. I didn't get the chance to put it back on," he stood, dumped the glass into the bin, and ignoring her curiosity about his gloveless hand, pointed to the paper. "That's not the contracts."

She glanced at it, seemingly embarrassed that she was still holding it. He watched with cautious patience as she bit her lip and let her thoughts sort themselves out. Despite his long absence he knew her well enough to see that she was chastising herself for something.

"No, I left in kind of a rush. They're downstairs, I should go get them. Wait here, I'll go get them," she rambled, turning to leave.

"Swan, why did you rush up here?" He asked with an indulgent smile.

Just as quickly as his hopes had been dashed they had been lifted back up by her nervousness. Killian had never seen her in such a state and he was interested to see what it meant.

"Neal was sent to the studio to keep me from interrupting whatever Gold was here to do. Looks like I was too late to prevent this."

"Were you coming up here to play the hero?" He asked, surprised that she thought he needed her. He did, but in a different, more meaningful, way. "I must say I'm honored, love."

He was surprised again as a blush flared across her cheeks. She quickly ducked her head and moved to set his table upright, a move he realized was as much to cover her blush as to give her time to respond. Her attention was then caught by the bouquet of flowers now strewn about his floor.

"It was a vase," Killian said with a shrug, watching as she dropped the paper on the table and picked up a pale pink rose. "The broken glass I mean. Anton sent them up earlier, kind of a welcome back and thank you all in one go."

"I have a couple of spare vases down in the studio. I'll bring one up when I get the contracts," she slowly turned the light pink flower, a rose, in her fingers, darting a glance up at him.

"You're going to sign them?" He asked hesitantly, watching her closely.

"Of course I am. As Regina kept telling me, I'd be stupid not to. You've done so much for so many people in this town, us included," she held the bloom out to him.

"No, love, you keep it," he said quietly.

"Roses are overrated," she complained even as she pulled her hand back.

"And yet I still want you to have it."

Killian smiled and proceeded to clean up the rest of his office. Not wanting to spend the time organizing all the papers that had gone flying he dumped them back on the table. He was more careful with the flowers and branches, placing them gently on his chair. Emma joined him in the effort, following his example but never once letting go of the rose.

Finally the office was in a lesser state of shambles. Killian no longer felt apprehensive about Emma seeing it, there was nothing to see but improvement after Gold's tantrum. She righted the other chair and sat down.

"Why CB & EJ?"

"Oh, that," he laughed, surprised that was her first question. He gathered the flowers up and with a resigned shrug placed them on one of the shorter stacks of boxes. "I needed a company name that wouldn't tip Gold off that it was me behind it all. I thought of all sorts of things, song titles, catchphrases from movies, using the names of classic rock artists, you name it I considered it at least once. Finally I figured initials would be the best, and least conspicuous."

"But what do they stand for? I mean, the 'J' is for Jones, right?" She asked, eyes quizzical.

"Right in one, Swan," he grinned, nearly tapping his nose and winking, before sitting down.

"But what about the CB or the E? Do you have a million names like Prince William or something?"

"Never pegged you for fancying His Royal Highness, love. Should I be jealous?" He asked giving in to the urge to wink and raising his eyebrow for good measure.

"You're avoiding the question," Emma said pointedly but he could have sworn he saw the corner of her lips tick up in a partial smile.

Killian knew she wouldn't let him avoid the question, perhaps any of the questions she had for him. He nervously rubbed behind his ear and ducked his head, focusing on the piles of paper on his desk instead of what he might see in her gaze.

"I, er, don't have a million names. The initials stand for Captain Blue Eyed Jones," he glanced up quickly, seeing the surprise flit across her face before looking back down. "A little inside joke with myself, as it were."

"You named your company after a nickname Ruby gave you?"

Her question made him realize how ridiculous it had been. He had thought he was being clever and perhaps a little bit charming.

"You've addressed me by it a time or two as well, love."

Curiously he saw the beginnings of a blush as it stained her cheeks.

"And the 'Captain' part?"

"You, er, have accused me of being a pirate before. I figured if I was to go through with my plan, try a little pillaging and plundering from Gold's hoard, I ought to have a fitting title for the part," he was able to play it off as a joke but only just. The smile he forced to his lips felt pasted on.

"Where did you get it? Where did the money come from for you to do all of this?" Emma asked, no hint of a joke or gentle prodding.

It was the moment he had been dreading since his return from England. The truth of how he had used almost every cent of the settlement money would either mend or destroy what little relationship he had left with Emma. That he had given up something so monumental for her to be secure in her own future was the one thing Killian had vowed only she would be the one to know.

"It's all mine, if that's what you're wondering. Nothing dodgy about it, despite what lies Will may have been spreading around town," he couldn't help looking away from her intense stare, not wanting to lay it all for her at once and overwhelming her.

"I haven't heard anything Will's been saying. That's a lot of money you've put into this town, into helping people, helping… helping me. I just need to know that you're going to be okay, Killian."

For as well as he could read her she kept coming up with ways to dumbfound him. He looked at her with wonder at her obvious concern.

"You don't have to worry about me, Swan. I had some savings from Liam's life insurance stashed away," he assured her softly

"But that couldn't have been that much," Emma blurted out, snapping her mouth shut as if she didn't mean to say it.

"It wasn't but it was a fair amount once added to another sum," Killian said haltingly, still unwilling to let her know just how much he had done for her.

"Another sum?"

"The settlement from the accident that did this," he grimaced as he held up his maimed hand, trying to sound detached but watching her every move carefully.

"And you used it to help me?"

It was only then, at her look of astonishment, wonder, disbelief and above all hope that he finally dropped all pretenses. Killian stared at her willing her to see everything, every decision he'd made, every wish he'd had, laid bare before her. He was done hiding from her, from the possibility of them, and that she would see that he was hers, completely.

"Yes, Emma, I did."

Killian watched as her mouth dropped open gently and she looked at him with a warmth he'd never seen from her before. The corners of her lips ticked up slightly, almost too small to be noticed, but he could see it as easily as if she had grinned wide and free.

She stood up slowly, still looking at him, and placed the rose carefully on the table in front of her. He felt a small stirring of panic, that he'd read everything wrong, but it was quelled the moment she took a step around the table towards him, her smile unfurling gently. As she moved closer he stood but stayed where he was, entranced by her grace as she stepped into his space.

He had thought that the memory of their kiss in front of her apartment building would have prepared him for the feel of Emma Swan in his arms once more. He was overwhelmingly mistaken.

Everything about her was soft, her hair twining around his hand as he leaned into her, the feel of her fingers gently anchoring at the back of his neck pulling him closer, the curve of her spine under his splayed hand as she arched into him, her sigh, a small delicate thing he would have missed if there had been any space between them, and her lips, parting under his, moving with his, chasing his as he pulled back slightly before delving back in.

It was different and yet the same. There was still the heat, the passion that he'd felt before, the undeniable tether between them that hadn't diminished but as he pulled her closer there was something more, something unshakeable that had him holding onto her just a little bit tighter.

She broke away, eyes flitting to his and back down to his lips, a smile gracing hers. Killian dropped his forehead to hers, loath to lose contact before finding that it wasn't enough. The smile he felt on her lips told him she felt the same.

Finally after minutes, or hours he wasn't quite sure, they broke apart, still swaying in each other's space. Emma was looking up at him with a glazed look and a lazy smile and he had a feeling he was looking at her in exactly the same way. There was one thought niggling at the back of his mind however.

"I have to ask, Swan, the man I saw you with…"

"Hmm? Oh, Walsh?" She blinked slowly, as though she had to dig deep to remember the events from only a few days before. "Yeah, it was a one time thing. I, um, needed to see if I could move on from this guy who disappeared suddenly, right when things were starting to go somewhere. Turns out I couldn't."

"This guy, who disappeared," Killian took a step back, as much to watch her reaction and to stop himself from kissing her again. They needed to talk, no matter how much he wanted to do other, more pleasurable activities. "He had a good reason to and never meant to cause you pain. I'm so sorry, Emma."

"It's okay, Killian," she said with a sad smile and a shrug but reached for his hand before he could reach out to comfort her himself. "I forgave you a long time ago, even if I wouldn't admit it. You could have warned me that you were coming back, though."

"And miss out on the joy of watching Gold lose his composure over being outwitted?" He grinned as she rolled her eyes at him. "In truth, I couldn't bear to get my, or your, hopes up if things had fallen through. I boarded a plane before the ink was dry on my visa, it left little time to warn anyone besides Will that I was returning."

"About Gold," Emma said with a squeeze of her hand. "What did he mean, when he said that it was about a woman?"

Killian smiled widely at her, bringing her hand entwined in his up to his chest.

"I think we've already established that all this was about getting the Quills back to you and Regina, love."

"Oh, so you did this for Regina?" She said with wide, teasing eyes. "I'm not sure Robin is going to be to happy about that."

"Swan," Killian growled, ignoring her smirk. "Gold threatened to take away your livelihood and your son if I didn't step away from you. I wasn't going to let that bastard do that to you, even if it meant I had to do exactly what he wanted to do what I needed to."

"Killian," she whispered, stunned.

He bent down quickly and captured her lips with his own once again. There was nothing soft or gentle about this kiss. It was as though they were each trying to impress upon the other how much his absence had stung and how desperate they were to find each other again. Emma nipped at his lower lip and with a growl he deepened the kiss, the hand still in hers wrapping their arms around her back the other dropping to her hip, backing her against the wall and erasing all space between them as his thigh slid between hers.

Upon hearing her stuttered gasp and low moan he pulled away suddenly, all too aware that it was the middle of the day, in his office with the door wide open. The day after he'd told numerous new tenants to stop by at any time should they need to see him. He didn't pull back far, resting his forehead on hers, breathing hard and trying very hard not to open his eyes and see if she looked as ruined as he felt.

"Okay," Emma said breathily. "I should go. Get the contracts. For you, because you need them, for us. I mean from us, definitely from us. Regina and I."

Killian finally opened his eyes and was rewarded of the sight of a flushed, swollen lipped Emma. She tipped her head back to the wall as she blinked up at him.

"Too right, love," he said reluctantly, stepping back and releasing her from his hold. "I'm sure you must return to work as well."

"Work, right, yeah," she agreed, still leaning against the wall. "I'm sure Jefferson isn't too happy with me right now."

"Just assure him that you were finalizing the terms of your lease with the new landlord," he smirked, delighted with the renewed blush on her cheeks.

"He'll see right through that," she said, pushing herself off the wall and running a hand through her hair in an attempt to tame it. "I'll have to let him go home early to make it up to him."

"And how will you make it up to me for making me wait so long for your contract?" Killian stepped towards her again and pushed a lock of hair over her shoulder, letting his fingers trail along her neck.

"I can think of a few things," she answered shakily.

"As can I, Swan," he smirked. Then, dropping the bravado, asked her seriously, "Perhaps we should start with an evening out, dinner perhaps. A chance to start over."

She didn't answer with words, just a short, sweet kiss. One loaded with promises and intentions, enough to get his heart pounding again.

"Are you free tonight?" He inquired as soon as she dropped back away from him.

"I guess I could be," she teased. "I guess Neal's sudden appearance is good for something. Henry won't mind spending the extra time with him."

"It's a date then. I'll pick you up at seven," he dipped down for one final kiss, a peck on the lips really.

"Seven," she repeated softly before turning to leave.

"And Swan?"

Emma turned back with her eyebrows raised.

"Yeah?"

"Perhaps you should have Regina drop off the contracts. I fear I might not be able to let you leave again if you come back up here today."

Emma's bright laugh echoed in the empty outer room as she spun back around, throwing a casual wave over her shoulder. Killian watched her go, something integral and infinite settling in his chest. It took a moment to him to realize what it was. He loved her and he was getting another chance to be with her, to make her happy, to have her fall in love with him too.

Killian didn't get much work done the rest of the day but it didn't bother him. Jefferson ended up being the one to deliver the Quill's contracts, with a smirk and a wink that Killian chose to ignore. No one else came to the office and at five on the nose he locked up and hurried home.

Two hours later he was standing outside of Emma's building, the rose she had left behind in his hand, waiting for her to come down. When she opened the door and smiled happily at him he grinned, knowing that whatever happened they were forging their own path in the world, to an unknown future, together.

* * *

 **A.N.: I must say this was the hardest chapter to write. Not because of writers block but because I knew this was the last chapter and I wanted it to be everything it needed to be. Don't worry there's still an epilogue but that's just a coda for the story at large. I hope you wonderful readers enjoyed it as much as I did writing it.**

 **Next week: Well, you'll just have to wait and see.**


	27. Epilogue

**A bit of fluff to mend our hearts after that Winter Finale.**

 **The characters still continue to belong to Kitsis and Horowitz and this is may the last time I'll bring them out here to play.**

* * *

 _Two months later_

"What did I tell you about wearing the merch of the competition Emma?" Ruby grumbled from beside her.

Emma looked down at the sweatshirt she had just put on and raised an eyebrow at her.

"It's not even from a tattoo parlor and at least this time it's from a business in the same town. We did remember the snacks and water though, so points for that."

Ruby huffed, crossing her arms and watching the crowd roam past their booth. Laughing to herself Emma pulled the appointment book towards her to see what they had scheduled for the rest of the day.

It was a no brainer that they would return to the Portland Tattoo Expo. Regina's only demand being that they stock up enough merchandise before hand so Robin wouldn't have to make the trip down like he had the year before. Even August had arranged it so he was in the country the weekend it was going on.

Once again their time there had been a success, they had been booked solidly through the weekend, many appointments having been made weeks in advance through their website. They'd even had Mick design custom shirts for the Expo, all of which had sold out on the first day. Even the seminars Emma had to attend had been interesting, if not enlightening.

One of the highlights was a guy who had been tattooed by Ruby the year before stopping suddenly in front of their booth on the first day and exuberantly welcoming them back. It took a moment for Emma to drag his name out of the recesses of her memory but Eddie had looked ecstatic when she finally remembered it. He was one of the last people to book one of the spots they had left open for walk-ups, insisting that he needed a tattoo from Emma to compliment his one from Ruby. Eddie had only just left with an eagle adorning his other forearm.

"Looks like there's just one more tattoo for today, the rest is all August," Emma murmured running her finger down the page.

"Yeah, we could be walking the floor but someone had to invite her boyfriend down to spend time together," Ruby grumbled.

"Please, Graham's been here the whole weekend and you don't see me complaining," Emma said rolling her eyes. "And Killian's bringing Henry too. They got in this morning and I think they were going to Old Orchard Beach."

"I still can't believe you let them sail down here. What time did they leave Storybrooke? Midnight?"

"Four thirty, actually," Emma laughed.

She had watched the video of Killian waking up Henry by ripping off his blankets several times since Killian had sent it to her that morning. Henry hadn't been amused and told her as much in a text of his own. He also mentioned that the beds at the hotel better be more comfortable than Killian's couch or he'd go back to Storybrooke with August.

They planned on spending the rest of the day exploring Portland. Ruby, August, and a chipper Graham were the ones going to be packing up the booth and getting it all back to Storybrooke. Emma had ridden down with August and would be sailing back with Killian and Henry the next day. She had been smiling giddily to herself about it the whole weekend.

"So what's the poor unfortunate soul who has to deal with your distraction getting? I hope it's something simple because I don't want to have to listen to any complaints about it coming out weird," Ruby said, craning her neck to look at the appointment book herself.

"I'm not sure, they didn't leave anything in the comment section of their appointment booking and they haven't stopped by the booth at all this weekend."

Emma was confused but not worried. A lot of times the people had seen her work on the studio's website and just wanted a piece done by her, regardless of what it would be. She always found that a little humbling but also kind of amazing.

"Does that say John Bonham?" Ruby snorted.

"Yeah, why?" Emma asked looking back down at the book.

"Isn't he the drummer from Led Zepplin?"

"Quite perceptive of you, Ruby. Although I'm surprised August didn't happen to mention something earlier."

Emma and Ruby looked up to see Killian standing in front of them with a wide grin. Henry was at his side, grinning just as widely. They were both dressed in grey shirts, Killian had a red flannel with the sleeves rolled up over his, and cargo shorts. It was easy to see that had been in the wind, their hair was a mess on top of both of their heads.

"August never looks in the book, he just goes and pierces whoever sits in the chair in front of him," Emma said with a grin of her own. "I guess this means I get to leave early."

"Not so fast, Swan," Killian held up his hand to stop her from getting up. "Just because the name is fake doesn't mean the appointment is."

"Wait, you want a tattoo from me?"

Killian had never mentioned it before, even when he'd spent a whole evening pouring over her portfolios and sketchbooks marvelling at her work.

"Of course, love. Wouldn't trust anyone else with the task," he said, tipping a wink at Ruby.

"Good thing I like you, Blue Eyes," Ruby drawled back. "Hey, kiddo you want to go see if one of the booths is handing out temporary tattoos? We can see how many we can get before they notice."

"Sure, but only if we can also see how many we can get on my face before Mom's done with Killian," Henry said bouncing on his toes.

"Deal!"

Before Emma could protest Ruby and Henry had disappeared into the crowd. She was just glad Henry's summer program was a little lax in the dress code.

"Is that my sweatshirt, Swan?"

Looking back down at the sweatshirt she'd stolen from his truck when he dropped her off at August's she grinned and pushed the sleeves up to her elbows.

"Maybe, it might belong to someone else. There are plenty of people who work at Anton's you know."

"Funny thing, love, Anton changed the logo ever so slightly after I bought the flower shop. I may be the only one who still has the beanstalk on my sweatshirt. So if you're trying to make me jealous I'd say you're still doing a spectacular job," Killian frowned dramatically as he rounded the table to her side.

"Stop pouting and let me give you a proper hello," she all but demanded.

Her fingers curled into the hair on the back of his head as he bent down to do as she asked. A happy hum escaped her as his lips met hers briefly but intensely. She was fully aware they were in public and dozens of people could see them but she hadn't seen him in four days, the longest stretch since he had returned from England. Killian pulled back before she was ready to let him go, chuckling at her refusal to move her hand from his neck and conceded to dropping into Ruby's abandoned chair and pulling hers closer.

"Miss me, love?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," she answered honestly, dropping her head to rest on his shoulder.

"I think I know the feeling," he murmured quietly, draping his arm over the back of her chair, rubbing her arm absently.

Emma let herself get lost in the quiet moment with Killian. It had been easy, opening herself up to him and falling into a relationship. Even their fights were easy things, more of a means to making up than anything at this point.

"So, you want another tattoo?" She asked, turning her head slightly to look up at him.

"Is that such an awful thing?"

"Of course not. You've just never said anything about it."

She sat up, turning to face him. Aside from the heart on his right arm Killian only had one other tattoo. Emma had discovered it unintentionally after one of their dates when they had gone back to his apartment. She'd been a little eager, straddling his lap as they sat on the couch, running her hands over his chest and his shirt had ended up on the floor. Hers was well on its way to joining it when she had stopped him, entranced by the anchor on his left hip that was smaller than the palm of her hand. He had told her that he'd gotten it when he was sixteen but the explanation had stuttered to a stop when her fingers began tracing the tattoo, toying with the waistband of his pants where the ink dipped below it. Killian had stood up with a growl, her ankles locking at his lower back as he carried her to his bedroom and she had never been more grateful that Henry had been staying with David and Mary Margaret for the night.

"You alright, love?" Killian's concerned voice dragged her thoughts back.

"Yeah, fine. I'm fine," she answered, suddenly way too warm for the sweatshirt she was wearing.

Killian watched her bemused. She was pretty sure he didn't know what she had been thinking about but he probably had a good idea. He was the only one who could make her blush and he revelled in it.

"Thinking about me perhaps?" He asked as he bent down to murmur in her ear. His voice was low, gravelly, and she had to suppress a shiver. "Thought so. Too bad Henry's sharing the room with us tonight or I'd have made indecent plans."

"I hope you can come up with something last minute because I may have booked August's room through tomorrow as well," Emma said, turning her head to let her nose graze his cheek and pressing a kiss to his jaw, feeling it clench under her lips. She pulled back with a wide smile, "So, Mr. Bonham, what exactly did you want permanently inked on your body today?"

He huffed out a tense laugh, shifting slightly in his seat.

"Bad form, Swan, teasing a man so."

"Thought I'd give you a taste of what I've been dealing with all weekend."

"Once again, I know the feeling," he said pointedly, looking at her as if he hadn't seen her for weeks instead of days.

"So, you seriously want me to tattoo you?" Emma asked after taking a moment to collect herself. "Why now? You could've come into the studio at any time."

"Yes, but I didn't meet you a year ago at the studio. Hardly a romantic gesture when there's no significance behind it," Killian said flippantly. "Besides you're booked solid for the next three months and I didn't want to wait."

"I'd make time, you wouldn't have to twist my arm to get me to do this without an appointment," she paused. "It has been a year hasn't it? Imagine that."

"You didn't remember, Swan? You wound me," Killian pouted, holding his hands over his heart.

Emma almost rolled her eyes but something in his expression stopped her.

It wasn't that she hadn't remembered, she'd remembered as soon as she'd opened the email inviting the studio to be at the Expo again. It was more that she wasn't the type of person that made a big deal out of every little moment in a relationship, not that she'd had much experience, but she had wanted to about that first moment with Killian.

She had wanted to mark the date in her phone so she'd never accidentally forget, to buy him a ridiculous card with cutesy bears or a cheesy poem just to watch his reaction, to eat at a fancy restaurant and argue over what kind of dessert to get. It wasn't even an anniversary of their first date or when they started actually dating but for Emma it almost felt like so much more. When Killian had shown up at their booth the year before it had set in motion a chain of events that opened her eyes and her heart to a better life than she had been living before.

Emma, however, had done none of those things. She hadn't wanted to make a big deal about it when it seemed clear that Killian wasn't going to. When she had mentioned going to the Expo again he had just smiled and asked if she wanted to borrow his truck when the time came. The idea for him and Henry to join her had been hers and she'd only suggested it after going back and forth with herself about it for days.

It was clear to her that Killian had been thinking about it almost as much as she had. His appointment had been one of the first ones booked when they opened them on the website.

"Killian, what do you mean by romantic gesture?" She asked slowly, carefully, not wanting to read more into it than she already was.

"Ah, caught that did you," the tips of his ears went red and he looked down at the table for a moment before looking back at her with a soft, emotional smile. "You mean a great deal to me and I know we've only had a few months together but this Expo, this day was the start of everything. Meeting you brought me back from an edge I didn't know I was on and there's nothing I can say to thank you enough for that. So I thought I'd show you instead."

She was still trying to make sense of his words as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. With fingers that were trembling slightly he unfolded it and laid it flat in front of her.

It was a sketch, an extremely rough one, of a rose. Specifically a sketch that she had done of the rose he had given her when they had gone on their second first date, the one she had accidentally left in his office earlier that day. Emma had filled almost a quarter of a sketchbook with idle drawings of that rose. She had thought she'd kept her little obsession with it from him but apparently not, she could see the rough edge of the paper where he had torn it out of her sketchbook.

Suddenly a feeling that had been growing slowly over the weeks surged up in her. She hadn't wanted Killian to see her sketches because he would know that she had placed more meaning into that rose than he might have meant. Him wanting her to tattoo it on him, a permanent choice to have a tie to her and to them, made her to realize he had placed just as much meaning into the bloom as she had.

"Tomorrow," she whispered as her fingers traced the sketch.

"What?" Killian asked, sounding confused.

"The official date that we met is tomorrow. That's the date I want to celebrate on," Emma looked up at him with a smile. "I want to celebrate it, with you, every year from here on out. I want to do the fancy dinners and ridiculous cards and make Henry blush with how mushy we are together because I love you."

Emma wanted to pull out her phone to capture the look Killian was giving her. His eyebrows had lifted in surprise and even though his eyes were wide with shock they were filled with glee and awe, dancing across her face. She barely had time to brace herself before his hands were cupping her cheeks and he was kissing her without restraint. He only pulled away when they started getting appreciative whistles and hoots from the crowd that had gathered, grinning like a fool.

"I love you too, Emma," he murmured, forehead gently resting on hers.

She had been about to pull back but hearing his words she ended up pulling him back to her by the collar of his shirt. It took a woman's shout of 'get it honey!' that finally broke them apart, laughing.

"Why the rose?" She asked him as soon as the crowd dispersed and her cheeks didn't feel like they were on fire.

"I thought that should be obvious, love," his eyes crinkled with his wide smile as he said the endearment. "You kept that rose in water on your desk for two weeks, then hung it to dry out, and then put it right back on your desk. Not to mention all the drawings of it I found while perusing through the sketchbook you tried to keep a secret from me. You may say that roses are overrated, Swan, but the evidence proves the contrary."

"Maybe it's not the rose but what the rose means," she countered.

"Which is exactly why I want you to do me the honor of tattooing it here," Killian tapped his fingers gently on his chest, over his heart. "I'd also like you to do it freehand, if you would."

"Freehand is Ruby's specialty," Emma glanced down at the sketch then back up at him blushing slightly at the intense look he was giving her. "What?"

"Swan, you've drawn that damn rose more times than I can count and every one of them is breathtaking. I have faith that you can do this with your eyes closed."

"I might have to, since I'll have to shave part of your chest and god knows I might not be able to keep from laughing at you looking like a mangy cat for a couple of weeks."

"Ha, bloody, ha, love," he drawled. "Shall we get on with it?"

"I'm ready if you are," she said, nodding her head to the back of the booth where the equipment was set up.

Killian stood up with a grin and started pulling off his shirts, winking as she watched him unabashedly. Rolling her eyes she gave her sketch one last cursory glance before moving around the booth to set everything up. As she snapped on her gloves she wondered if Ruby could squeeze her into her schedule. Emma suddenly had the urge to get a new tattoo of her own.

Killian had once wondered if she had a rose on her hip. She couldn't wait for him to discover that she would.

* * *

 **A.N.: And there we are folks. This was always intended to be a story of how Killian and Emma fell in love and I do have a few little threads dangling about that might become bonus chapters at some point, but for now this is The End. I want to thank every single one of my readers and especially those that have left such amazing comments as we went along. What started as a little birthday gift to my sister has become this much bigger thing that I couldn't be more proud of.**

 **Don't despair, however, because while this story may be over I'm already starting to plan out my next one and it's going to be a doozy.**

 **Thank you all and see you around some time.**


End file.
